


The Warrior Princess

by Juliandria



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Heartbreak, Love, Love Triangle, Possessive Behavior, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Romance, Slow Build, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 42,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliandria/pseuds/Juliandria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Layla learns that Thranduil has agreed to an alliance with her king father, she is convinced that the Elvenking has an ulterior motive. She is about to discover the truth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

Layla’s brother, Cedric, charged ahead with a dozen riders while she veered left with their cousin, Drake, and the rest of the riders. It was the second time this month that they had to drive away a pack of orcs that had set up camp near the mountains. Once again, the orcs were spying on the Rohirrim, searching for weaknesses that will give them an advantage during an attack.

As they neared the camp, Layla discovered that they had underestimated the orc numbers. It wasn’t a pack but a large horde. No matter, she thought, the Riders of Rohan were unmatched when it came to slaying their enemies on horseback. It gave them the advantage of speed and height which offered, to some extent, added protection from their attackers.

They were only several yards away from the orcs when most of them began to flee. A braver group remained and challenged the Riders. Layla hefted her longsword and brought it down swiftly across the neck of the nearest orc. Very few females could wield a longsword the way she did. Layla had strength and was highly skilled with a sword. Her father, King Fredric, had made it his personal hobby to train her for he saw a hidden talent in her that fired him up. She was a fast learner and she possessed sharp instincts. Unfortunately, he had not seen the same in her older brother and as a result did not devote much time to his training. Instead, he entrusted his captain of the guard with this task. It was no wonder that Cedric resented her so much, not only for this but he also blamed her for the death of their mother who died giving birth to her.

Their mother belonged to the race of Elves and when she married their father, her family disowned her. They didn’t even attend her funeral which only led to their father’s further resentment against the elves. Cedric had loved his mother, Miriel, very dearly and he took her death the hardest. He was only ten years old when she died and now had to face a world without the parent who had loved him the most. His mother used to sing to him and tell him bedtime stories. She loved flowers, especially daffodils, which Cedric used to collect from the castle garden and give to her. He loved the way she smiled and the way her eyes lit up, as if he were giving her the most precious gift in the world. That all ended the day Layla came into the world. It was the day she destroyed his life.

He had tried to hurt the small babe whenever he had the chance, but her wet nurse, Nella, was never far from her and would stop him, always scolding him harshly.

“It seems we drove off the last of them,” Drake called out to Layla as he approached her with his mount.

“Indeed," she smiled at him, grateful for the small victory.

Layla loved her cousin Drake for he was more like a brother to her than Cedric. His parents were killed years ago during an orc raid and his king uncle took him into the castle walls for his own protection.

“They’ll be back,” Layla added as she sheathed her sword.

Now that the messy orc business was behind them, her mind returned to the matter that had been nagging her since last week. A week ago, the Elvenking informed her father that he would be willing to form an alliance with Rohan. He was expected to arrive this evening just in time for dinner.

It wasn’t the alliance that was bothering Layla, but rather the memories of his last visit, three months ago. She remembered that day vividly.

_They were sitting in the great hall enjoying a dinner feast. The crown prince of Gondor, Farlin, who was a close friend of Cedric, was present and leered at her the entire time while he and his brother exchanged some private jokes. Across from her, sat Lord Denton, her secret lover, who was spending the night in the castle. His guest quarters adjoined hers via a hidden door that connected their respective wardrobes._

_At twenty-two, when most women her age were married or betrothed to a male, Layla had no need for love. She believed love was for silly maidens who wore frilly gowns and giggled senselessly. Their arrangement suited her just well and allowed her to pursue her own interests. Her father had never pressed the issue for no one was good enough for his daughter. On the other hand, Cedric look for any opportunity to press her father about her marital status. It was his way of getting rid of her and he was also intent on seeing her wed his good friend, Farlin. Fortunately, her father was always on her side and would dismiss his counsel._

_While Layla counted down the minutes for the dinner feast to end, she noticed the Elvenking’s eyes were fixed on her. He made no effort to hide the fact that he was watching her. She couldn’t be certain but she thought she saw his lips curl into a smug smile before he took a sip from his wine goblet. There was something about his powerful presence that both unnerved and excited her. She almost knocked her wine goblet when she looked away, making a complete fool of herself. If he had noticed her clumsiness, she would never know for she refused to look his way the rest of the evening. She already had someone who would keep her occupied tonight. It was best to just focus on Denton. He was harmless and unassuming and always placed her in control._

_When she entered her quarters later that evening, Nella, who had been her wet nurse and now her servant, had already retired for the night. Her other servant, Grace, had just finished preparing her hot bath._

_“Grace, where are my bath oils?” Layla asked her impatiently as she looked around the large bathroom._

_The young servant never ceased to demonstrate her incompetence._

_“Right away, my lady,” Grace scurried off to find the bath oils._

_Layla undressed without the servant’s help and eased herself into the marble tub. The water felt a bit too hot for her liking but she expected it to cool down soon enough. Lord Denton would be entering her quarters through the secret door within the hour._

_She was about to lean her head back on the towel folded behind her, when Grace’s screams caused her to straightened up, her heart racing with panic._

_“Grace?!” she called out to the servant from the tub._

_The servant ran into the bathroom, wide-eyed and speechless._

_“What is it? Speak!” Layla demanded impatiently._

_But Grace did not have to say a word as the Elvenking step through the doorway._

_Layla was completely beside herself for he was the last person she had expected to see in her quarters._

_“How dare you enter my private quarters?!” Layla cried out with angry indignation._

_Grace grabbed a large towel but before she could take it to her mistress, the Elvenking intervened._

_“I’ll take care of that. Leave us. Now!” he ordered the servant who was too frightened to protest._

_Layla was furious beyond words with Thranduil’s impertinence._

_“You’ll be needing this, princess,” he held out the towel to her from the door which was a good ten feet away from the tub._

_She wasn’t about to go to him nor was she going to give him the satisfaction of cringing like a bashful maiden who was ashamed of her nudity._

_With all the dignity she possessed, she rose from the tub with her head held high and walked towards the marble table below the window where the servant had placed her sleeping robe. The air felt cool against her wet skin, giving her gooseflesh. She could feel those eyes of his watching her as she turned her back to him. Gracefully, she slipped into her robe only to discover that Grace had forgotten to leave a belt for her to tie around her waist. She was going to wring that simpleton’s neck when she had the chance. Having no other choice, she clutched the front of her robe with her left hand to cover her nakedness. She kept her right hand free for she was certain she was going to need it. To her chagrin, the white silk fabric clung to her wet skin, leaving very little to the imagination._

_Layla walked a few feet towards him and was immediately unnerved by his powerful stare which was coupled with that ever-present smug smile._

_“It appears that your elven half is quite dominant,” he commented smugly._

_Layla’s face reddened at his comment for she knew all too well what he meant. Elven females were hairless down below just as their males were beardless. Nella had explained this to her when she was a child._

_“Get out!” she said through clenched teeth._

_“A king does not take orders from a princess,” he said in a lazy tone as he tossed the unused towel to the floor._

_“These are my quarters and you will leave immediately,” Layla persisted a bit more angrily._

_“Are you expecting company?” he asked in that deep, sultry voice of his._

_“What business is it of yours?” she hissed at him._

_“I thought you should know that your Lord Denton has decided not to pay you a visit tonight,” he said with a smirk._

_Layla could not hide the look of surprise on her face when she heard the Elvenking’s words, which only added to his amusement._

_“I can be very persuasive when I want something and I wanted his guest quarters. I must say I found the secret door to be quite convenient especially when one desires discretion,” he added with a knowing smile._

_Layla felt her blood boiling with rage. She couldn’t stop herself when she rushed towards him and raised her right hand to slap him. But he was too quick for her as he grabbed her wrist and then pinned it against the wall along with her body. She tried to strike him with her left hand but he managed to pin that against the wall as well._

_Layla felt helpless as he pressed his body against her to prevent her from attacking him any further. Her robe had flown open and she could feel the buttons on his tunic digging into her bare flesh. His body felt strong and muscular against hers. Oddly enough, her mind wandered off for a moment towards Lord Denton…he had never felt this good, she thought._

_Thranduil did not say another word to her as his mouth descended upon hers. After prying her mouth open with his own, he kissed her deeply and passionately. She didn’t know what came over her as she found herself surrendering to his kiss. She could feel her body responding in kind._

_Then abruptly, he withdrew from her as if he had a sudden change of heart._

_Looking down on her with those icy blue eyes, he spoke to her in his deep, sensuous voice._

_“On second thought, your bed has yet to cool from your last encounter with the Lord Denton. You know where to find me,” he drawled, his lips curling into an arrogant smile before releasing her._

_Turning on his heel in one swift movement, he walked out of her bathroom and headed towards the secret door in her wardrobe where he quickly disappeared._

_Layla found herself momentarily paralyzed by the encounter and its abrupt ending. She managed to look down at her body and saw that it was trembling—and it wasn’t from the cold._

Yes, that was three months ago and she never went to him. She was too proud and refused to give him the upper hand. She also made certain he never paid her another visit after she ordered a servant to nail the secret door shut. She successfully avoided him the remainder of his visit.

A week after the Elvenking departed, he sent her an exquisitely carved wooden box containing a silver necklace with the largest diamond stone she had ever seen. She refused the gift and arranged to have it returned to him. She did the same with the next two gifts that followed.

Thranduil was due to arrive tonight, just in time for a late dinner. Perhaps she will stay in her quarters and feign a headache.

******

Having prevailed over the orcs, Cedric was now leading the riders back to the castle while Layla followed closely behind him with their cousin Drake by her side.

They were met by the King’s squire who quickly informed them of the Elvenking’s early arrival. The King demanded their presence in the great hall in an hour for an early dinner with their honored guest.

Layla cursed softly under her breath.


	2. Chapter 2

When Layla arrived at her private quarters, she immediately headed for the bedroom and flung herself on the bed in frustration.

“What is the matter, my baby?” Nella asked, her back towards her mistress while she carefully arranged the gown and jewelry she had picked out for dinner.

“I don’t want to go to dinner. That Thranduil is insufferable!” Layla cried out from her bed.

“That’s all you’ve said about him the past three months…and you returned his gifts…and you ranted about how much you dislike him. Do you know what I think?” the old servant turned to face her, hands on her hips.

“Yes?” Layla arched an eyebrow at her, knowing she wouldn’t like what old Nella had to say.

“You are secretly smitten with him,” Nella said with a knowing smile.

“That is ridiculous, Nella! You have heard me say how much I despise him!” Layla cried out with indignantly.

“Who exactly are you trying to convince? Yourself…dare I say?” Nella said in a jesting tone.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing. If he directs any of his cutting remarks at me tonight, I have every intention of giving him a piece of my mind,” Layla warned her servant.

“I’m sure you will, my baby. Now get out of that bed before your bath gets cold!” Nella clapped her hands.

Layla heaved a long sigh before she forced herself to rise from her bed. Nella immediately began to help her remove her clothes.

Just then, the young servant, Grace, walked in.

“Where have you been?” Nella scolded her, “Here! These need cleaning!” she tossed Layla’s discarded clothes at her.

Grace caught the clothes in her arms and headed out the door without a word.

“I don’t know why you insist that this dimwitted goose help me. She’s always getting in my way. I can manage just fine on my own!” Nella chided Layla as she washed her hair.

Layla’s eyes fell on the old servant’s wrinkled, leathery skin. Nella was not getting any younger and she feared the strain of her work would take a toll on her health. Layla couldn’t bear the thought of Nella, the only mother she’s known, ending up in an early grave.

“Nella, we’ve discussed this. My days are long and you need your rest. Grace can help ease your burden,” Layla explained patiently.

As a half-elf, Layla did not need as much rest as a full blooded human. There was a time when Nella could keep up with her but those days were long gone.

“Well if she gets in my way, I’m going to yank out her hair!” Nella threatened.

Layla laughed and kissed the old woman on the cheek.

“Do what you must, Nellie,” she replied with a chuckle.

******

Layla was dressed in her finest silk, midnight blue gown and she wore a choker sapphire and diamond necklace. As she stopped before the entrance way of the great hall, everyone was already seated and her empty seat beside her brother was waiting for her. She had not intended to be late but she had also made no effort to hurry in spite of Nella’s urging.

Her eyes searched for the Elvenking and found him where she had expected him to be seated, to the right of her father who was seated at the head of the table while her brother, the crown prince, sat to his left. Her father’s adviser, Brandon, was seated beside Thranduil. No one had noticed her standing there while her eyes continued to scan the room, taking in the atmosphere and planning her clever remarks in her head.

As she entered the hall, her father was the first to catch sight of her and his lips immediately broke into a broad grin.

“Here’s my beautiful princess!” he exclaimed proudly.

Her brother, Cedric, turned his eyes towards her and looked at her with open contempt. She expected nothing less from him.

“Father,” she greeted him with a loving smile, a smile which faded when she turned her gaze to the Elvenking.

“Welcome, Thranduil,” she managed a strained greeting as she took her seat between Cedric and her cousin, Drake.

“How do you do, princess?” Thranduil said in return. His icy blues eyes were impassive—not what she had expected.

“Drake tells me how bravely you fought the orcs today,” her father said with admiration.

“It was nothing out of the ordinary,” Layla brushed it off, not wanting the focus to be on herself.

Meanwhile, Cedric stared at his wine goblet as he brooded silently.

“Of course it was, Layla. Don’t be so modest!” Drake chimed in.

Layla kicked her cousin playfully under the table.

"Shut up about it!" she whispered to him.

“Shall we discuss the terms of the alliance?” Cedric cut in, no longer able to bear another word of praise about his sister—the little wench who killed his mother.

The expression on King Fredric's face hardened at his son’s impertinence.

“A topic best discussed after dinner,” the King said in a tone that bordered on harshness.

Cedric said nothing in response but the reddening of the tips of his ears told Layla everything she needed to know. He was seething at being rebuked before their guest.

That had been the most uncomfortable part of the dinner and after that everyone engaged in easy conversation. Thranduil and her father talked quietly with each other during most of the dinner. Layla noticed that not once did he look her way…not since he had greeted her earlier.

 _Perhaps he has lost interest in me_ , Layla thought with unexpected disappointment. She hadn’t done anything to encourage that interest, especially after returning every gift he had sent her.

The Elvenking was quite striking, her eyes studied him discreetly. His golden hair framed his high cheek bones and cascaded down his shoulders. She could still remember the way he had kissed her. Lord Denton had never kissed her that way, or anyone else for that matter. That was just a kiss. Now she wondered what would have happened had she allowed him in her bed. She felt herself flushing and she was certain it wasn’t the wine.

“I must depart with our guest to discuss some private matters,” King Fredric announced as he rose from his seat. Thranduil followed suit.

Cedric stared at his father with a look of betrayal on his face, but King Fredric did not seem to notice.

After the King departed with his guest, Cedric immediately began to voice his displeasure.

“As the crown prince, I should be included in all discussions and matters pertaining to the kingdom,” he began ranting to no one in particular.

“I’m certain Father had a good reason for not including you…perhaps he will brief you afterwards,” Layla tried to calm her brother.

“What do you know about official kingdom matters?!” he snapped at her, and then added cruelly, “Why don’t you go back to whoring in your quarters? It’s what you do best!”

Cedric rose from his seat with such suddenness that he stumbled, knocking his chair to the floor. He stormed out of the great hall muttering angrily under his breath.

Layla knew her brother had had too much to drink but that did not mean that his comment hurt any less. She wondered how he had known about Lord Denton for she had tried to be discreet. Denton would never have said a word—he was much too afraid of her father.

Nevertheless, Layla decided to head for her quarters for she was feeling the beginnings of a headache. After all, the day had been full of strain for her—fighting the orcs, Thranduil’s visit, and now her brother’s vicious insults.

******

“Are you all right, my baby?” Nella smoothed back Layla’s hair after she helped her settle into bed for the night.

“I’m tired, that’s all,” Layla said softly.

“Rest up, child. I’ll have your breakfast ready when you awake,” the old servant kissed Layla’s forehead before retiring for the night.

It wasn’t long before Nella departed from her quarters when Layla heard knocking at her door. She hadn’t been expecting anyone at this hour.

When she answered the door and found her father on the other side of it, not only was she surprised but she was also perplexed. He rarely visited her in her private quarters.

“Father?” she said with surprise.

“I must speak with you privately,” Fredric said in a serious tone as he closed the door behind him.

 _Has he learned of my private meetings with Denton? Did Cedric say something to him?_ Layla’s mind raced furiously.

“Certainly, Father,” Layla replied.

She led her father to her sitting room where she sat beside him on a large sofa.

“Did you and Thranduil come to an agreement?” Layla tried to make small talk.

Layla found herself fidgeting nervously. Her father was very proud of her and now she feared that she had disappointed him.

“Yes, we did. As a matter-of-fact, that this why I’m here,” he replied as he studied the pattern of the rug on the floor.

“I see,” Layla was relieved to hear it. It wasn’t unusual for her father to seek her counsel on matters relating to the kingdom.

“King Thranduil has agreed to an alliance with our kingdom but he required one concession,” King Fredric began with measured words.

“What does he want, Father?” Layla asked curiously.

King Fredric cleared his throat before replying.

“…to make you his wife.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments! xx It makes the story so much fun to write. ;)

“No, Father!! You cannot agree to this!” Layla jumped to her feet.

“It is done, Layla! Now sit!” he patted the empty seat beside him, “I’m not finished talking to you.”

Layla returned to her seat but she was furious with her father.

“How could you do this to me? How could you treat me like livestock?” she turned to him, a look of betrayal on her face.

“Darling, you speak nonsense! I did not leave you without say in the matter. I insisted that you live in his palace for a month’s time and if you still do not wish to marry him, then he must abandon all claim to you,” her father explained, hoping to appease her.

“Truly? He agreed to this?” Layla wasn’t entirely convinced for she believed Thranduil was up to some trickery.

“Yes, Layla. He did,” her father replied tiredly.

“You were never one to pressure me into marriage and you dislike elves. Why now? What has changed?” Layla asked him.

“I have grown wiser in my old age, darling. It is futile to hate a race because of the sins of a single family. Face it, Layla, I’m no longer a young man. I have to be sure you’re safe if anything were to happen to me,” Fredric took a more solemn tone.

“Safe from what?” Layla asked.

“Your brother. I’m not blind to his contempt for you and perhaps I’m to blame for that for I’ve always favored you over him,” she could hear regret in his voice.

“You believe Cedric would hurt me, his own sister?” Layla knew her brother resented her but she never imagined that he would commit some atrocity against her.

“He has been urging me to marry you to his despicable friend, Farlin. I won’t allow it but if I were to die and Cedric becomes king, who will stop him? Besides, darling, Thranduil is a king, an immortal such as yourself, and his palace is a great fortress. You will be safer there than in any castle in Rohan. I know he will be good to you if you only give him a chance. Please do it for this old man’s peace of mind,” Fredric pleaded with her.

Something tugged at Layla’s heart as she listened to her father’s words. He was no longer the strong, young warrior who trained her as a young girl. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and she noticed that he was growing thick in the middle and didn’t move as fast as he did in years past.

“Are you not well, Father?” Layla began to panic.

“I’m fine, darling. Just old and tired…that’s all,” he said with a chuckle.

Fredric would never tell his daughter about his recent episodes of chest pains that left him weak and short of breath. He only wanted to see a smile on her pretty face…a face that was so much like her mother’s. How he missed his sweet Miriel…perhaps not for too long.

“All right, Father. I’ll do it for you,” she sighed with resignation.

******

The end of Thranduil’s visit was quickly upon them. Layla sat in her bedroom watching as Nella and Grace packed her things for her journey to the Woodland Realm. It was a small consolation that Nella was coming with her. She would never part with her. She only hoped the journey would not be too difficult on the old woman.

“Go to the kitchen and fetch those food baskets. Be sure to pack them on the horses,” Nella ordered Grace.

“I will miss you terribly, my lady,” Grace addressed Layla meekly.

“I thank you for your service, Grace, but there is still a chance I may return,” Layla replied.

The servant bowed her head and headed for the kitchen.

“I couldn’t wait to get rid of her,” Nella muttered under her breath as she continued packing Layla’s belongings.

Layla remained silent as she pondered her fate. Had this been Thranduil’s ulterior motive? If truth be told, he did not need an alliance with Rohan.

“My baby, if you sit there thinking so hard your head is going to burst,” Nella chided her.

“I don’t want to marry him,” Layla said softly. She cherished her independence too much.

“Be reasonable, child. You will never get a better marriage proposal. King Thranduil is powerful and has a great army. Don’t you want to be queen?” Nella tried to reason with her.

“Not his queen,” Layla replied disdainfully. She was angry at the Elvenking’s underhanded ways of getting what he wanted.

“You’re just a child and don’t know what’s good for you. If you marry him now your future will be assured. If you wait too long for another prospect, you may be at the mercy of your brother,” Nella warned her.

The words sent a chill down Layla’s spine for she was reminded of her father’s words.

******

The day was overcast which seemed like a reflection of Layla’s mood that morning as she and Nella made their way outside the castle gates. There she found Thranduil standing beside his horse waiting for her, along with a dozen guards and servants. The groom had readied her horse as well as a mare for Nella. At Layla’s request, the groom began to assist the old servant with her mount.

As Layla prepared to mount her horse, Thranduil was by her side, ready to assist her.

“I don’t need your help,” she said almost sharply.

“Suit yourself, princess,” he replied, retreating to his own mount.

She’s going to be a handful, he smiled to himself as he mounted his horse. The Elvenking loved a challenge and he was going to relish this one.

Layla had already said her goodbyes to her father and her cousin Drake who were now standing at the gate. She didn’t fail to notice that her brother Cedric was nowhere to be seen. She should not have been surprised but his absence bothered her.

As she turned her horse and took her place beside the Elvenking, she gave her father one last look and one last smile. He placed his hand to his heart as he smiled at her, a sign of affection.

They began their journey to the Woodland Realm.

******

Cedric was in bed with an arm around the woman lying beside him. He was furious with his father for not consulting him on the details of the alliance with the Elvenking. If Layla married the Elvenking, she would be untouchable.

“Do not fret, my prince. She is out of your hair forever,” Grace said in a soothing voice while she smoothed back his hair.

He was very tempted to slap the stupid wench. She was only good at one thing but she always spoiled it with her dimwitted comments.

“What else did she say?” he asked in a demanding tone.

“I heard nothing else…the old goat sent me on an errand,” Grace did little to hide her contempt for Nella.

“Father is ill but he hides it well,” Cedric appeared to be talking to himself.

“Is he?” Grace asked curiously.

Cedric glared at the servant before shoving her away.

“Get out! If you speak a word to anyone I will cut out your tongue,” he threatened her.

“As you command, my prince,” Grace was quick to oblige for she hoped the prince would summon her again.

******

After having endured hours of riding in silence beside the Elvenking, Layla was relieved to see the bridge that led to the palace’s gate. She dismounted at once and then helped Nella with her mare.

“How are you feeling, Nellie?” she asked her beloved servant.

“I’m alive, aren’t I?” came Nella’s piqued response. It had been a rather difficult journey for her old joints.

“I’m certain there’s a comfortable bed waiting for you in the palace,” Layla comforted her.

“Nonsense! You need a hot bath and I must pick out your clothes for this evening’s meal,” Nella was quick to protest.

There was no arguing with the stubborn old servant. As she led Nella forward, she noticed that Thranduil’s eyes were upon her. His eyes had hardened and his face was unsmiling.

“You will join me for dinner this evening,” Thranduil’s words had the unmistakable ring of a command. It was the sternest she had seen him since their departure from Rohan.

“As you wish, my lord,” Layla responded curtly as she continued to lead Nella.

“Behave yourself, child!” Nella whispered in a chiding tone.

“I said I would join him, didn’t I?” Layla whispered back.

“You were sarcastic,” Nella pointed out, and then added, “…and let’s not forget that you gave him the silent treatment the entire way here. The Elvenking is not made of stone.”

Layla sighed without responding to the servant. In truth, she was angry for being forced into this liaison. She was not just a princess but she prided herself on being a skilled warrior. Now she was reduced to the equivalent of livestock—something to be traded freely. It was a significant blow to her pride.

When Layla arrived at her private quarters, she found two servants in the sitting room awaiting her command.

“I will not require your services. I’ve already brought my own servant. Please leave,” she ordered the two elven servants, certain that they were there to spy on her.

“My lady,” they bowed their heads in unison before departing.

“That wasn’t very wise!” Nella scolded her.

“I would think that you of all people would be grateful not to have another servant getting in your way,” Layla shot back angrily.

“I would'nt risk angering the Elvenking,” Nella replied, disappointed at her mistress’s obstinacy.

Layla knew she was being spiteful because in her own way she wanted to exercise some control over her current state.

“He cannot tell me what I can or cannot do in my own private quarters,” she began removing her long leather coat.

Nella was by her side, helping her out of the coat. “You know your mother would have approved of this match.”

“Then I would call her a hypocrite. Wasn’t she the one who rebelled against her family to marry the man she loved?” Layla said bitterly.

“Don’t you dare speak ill of your mother,” Nella said in what sounded like a deadly tone.

Layla turned to her servant, startled by her reaction. She had never seen Nella react this way.

“I loved your mother very dearly. She was a sweet and gentle creature who loved you for the brief moment that she held you in her arms. She made me swear that I would take care of you and protect you. It was as if your mother knew that she didn’t have very long on this earth. That very night, she died in her sleep,” Nella’s voice caught when she spoke these last words.

Layla immediately felt terrible about her callousness.

“I’m sorry, Nellie. I did not mean it,” she embraced the old woman.

“It’s all right, child. You didn’t know her,” Nella embraced her back.

“You never told me this before,” Layla said softly.

“It was too painful,” Nella sighed, and then added, “I know you didn’t ask for this match with the Elvenking but most of us do not ask for the hand that fate deals us. Your father certainly didn’t ask for your mother to die and I never asked to become old and decrepit. We accept our fates and find a way to make the best of it. That is all I will say on the matter tonight. Now let’s get you ready.”

Nella kissed the young woman she had come to love as her own daughter. Then she began to prepare her hot bath, at which point, the two servants that Layla dismissed earlier, returned to her quarters.

“My lady, the King insists that we remain here to help you. He would like to make certain that you arrive on time for dinner,” one of the servants spoke up.

“Certainly. I’ll leave you to it,” she said to the servants as she resigned herself to her fate.

******

An hour later, Layla was ready to meet the Elvenking for dinner. She wondered who else would be there—perhaps his son, Legolas, and a dozen others. She was well aware of the King’s penchant for lavish feasts.

“Remember what I said to you,” Nella gave her one last reminder before she headed out the door.

One of the servants, Irina, led her to the banquet hall where dinner would be served this evening.

With Nella’s help, she had chosen an elegant yet modest gown. She was careful not to wear anything too revealing for fear that the Elvenking would think that she was trying to seduce him.

Before they reached the banquet hall, Layla spotted Thranduil standing at the doorway talking to his son Legolas. As soon as they saw her approaching, Legolas nodded at her curtly and departed from his father. Thranduil’s eyes were fixed on her. _How strange_ , she thought. At the very least, she had expected Legolas to join them for dinner.

Irina led Layla to the doorway where she soon discovered why Legolas wouldn’t be joining them. To her surprise, there were only two place settings on the long banquet table.

“Evening, my lord,” Layla managed after recovering from her surprise.

Thranduil studied her briefly with his piercing, blue eyes before responding.

“You’re late."


	4. Chapter 4

Although a few cutting remarks came to mind, Layla chose to ignore Thranduil’s comment about her tardiness.

After ushering her inside the banquet hall, he took the seat at the head of the table while she took the seat to his left. Thranduil made it a point not to assist Layla with her chair, remembering how she rebuked him when he had tried to help her with her mount.

The servants poured their wines and served them their first course. They departed silently from the hall, leaving the two of them alone.

Layla could not contain herself any longer as she sat there in silence, stewing in her anger.

“You must be really proud of yourself,” she spoke without looking at him, her eyes fixed on the plate before her.

“Whatever do you mean, princess?” he said in a quiet tone that was mildly laced with sarcasm.

“You don’t need an alliance with my father,” she turned her fiery eyes towards him.

“You’re right. I don’t,” he brought the goblet of wine to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers.

“It was a tactic to get what you really wanted,” she couldn’t mask the bitterness in her tone.

“You wanted this just as much as I do. Have you forgotten that you kissed me back that evening?” his lips curled into a smile as he set down his wine goblet.

“That was a mistake,” she said in an icy tone.

“Don’t deny it, princess,” it was obvious that he was toying with her.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” she said disdainfully.

“I will not let you starve yourself while you live here,” he informed her.

“I find it very distasteful that you preyed on my father’s fears to get what you wanted,” she said heatedly.

“You have been misinformed, princess. Your father’s fears are his own and I never once exploited them,” it was Thranduil’s turn to be angry.

His words silenced Layla for she couldn’t be certain that he was being truthful.

“Will you truly let me go in one month’s time?” she finally spoke.

“That was the agreement,” he replied, his expression stoic.

“Then I pray for a speedy month,” she said taking a sip from her wine.

“You will not want to leave,” he replied smugly.

“You’re arrogant,” she was piqued by his snide remark.

“Confident,” he corrected her.

“What do you hope to gain by making me your wife?” Layla asked him pointedly.

“A skilled warrior and a lifetime companion,” Thranduil said without hesitation.

Layla had expected another cutting remark from the Elvenking but he surprised her with this response.

“Is that right?” she commented, still unsure of his sincerity.

“It’s a lot more than that,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?” Layla hoped she wouldn't regret asking.

“On the day you were born, I was alerted by the Lady Galadriel of your birth and your elven mother’s death. She was concerned that you would not survive without the nurturing of your elven mother. Galadriel must have seen something in you that made her believe you were worth saving. She asked that I accompany her to Rohan to speak with your father. It was her intention to convince him to have you raised by elves to ensure your survival. As you may guess, your king father refused to part with you. Galadriel continued to keep watch over you from afar. On occasion, she would send me reports on your progress. Soon, I became intrigued with your resilience and your rare talent for battle,” he paused briefly, remembering the reports he had also received of her rare beauty. But he did not mention this to her.

“Well as you can see, I was never in any real danger. Nella nurtured me well. She lost a child and I lost a mother—we were perfectly matched. Besides, why didn’t Lady Galadriel take the same interest in Cedric?” Layla asked pointedly.

“Cedric was not an infant child when your mother passed away. Her death posed a greater danger to you,” Thranduil replied.

“I see,” Layla drank absentmindedly from her wine goblet, her eyes staring far away.

She did not notice that the Elvenking was taking advantage of her distracted mind. His eyes drifted slowly from her face down to the outline of her breasts. He was inflamed with desire for her, his mind devising the best plan to seduce her. Of course, he was fully aware that Layla was not easily fooled. She already harbored resentment towards him and any act of boldness on his part would only drive her further away. In the end, he thought it would be wise to proceed with caution until he won her over.

“You never knew this…did you?” Thranduil asked her.

“How could I? I’ve always believed the elven race had abandoned us,” Layla admitted.

“Not at all. Someone was always watching,” he added.

“I managed just fine without your kind,” Layla replied.

“Indeed. Although you could be a better warrior,” it was difficult for Layla to tell if he was saying this in jest.

“How so?” she asked curiously. Layla always aspired to be a better fighter.

“You lack archery skills,” he pointed out with a smile.

“A useless skill when one is close to a foe. You can be killed in the time it takes you to nock an arrow on to the bowstring,” she had never cared for this weapon. It was best left for the archers who stood guard on the top of the castle walls.

“Use it against your enemy from a distance where a longsword is useless to you,” he countered back.

“Perhaps,” she noted quietly.

“I can teach you,” Thranduil offered.

“Shouldn’t I be engaging the services of your master archer?” Layla asked.

“Not if you want to learn from the best,” he smiled at her.

Layla had to smile at his confidence. Or was it arrogance? Little did she know that it was neither. Thranduil wanted no other male near her.

“All right. When do we begin?” suddenly, she was excited about learning a new art.

“Tomorrow morning, seven sharp,” he replied.

“I look forward to it,” she stabbed her salad with her fork, realizing that she hadn’t eaten a bite.

“Be certain to eat breakfast for we will be training the entire morning,” he cautioned her.

“I will keep that in mind. Incidentally, I do hope you are not planning another unexpected visit to my quarters,” she eyed him warily.

“Only if you desire one,” Thranduil smirked at her.

“I cannot be certain if I can trust you, considering that you invaded my private quarters in my own home,” Layla reminded him.

“Your father had already promised you to me,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh…and you thought that gave you the right to sample the goods,” she said somewhat taken aback.

“No. I wanted to be certain that no other was sampling what is rightfully mine,” Layla thought she heard a bit of tension in his voice.

“I’m not your property,” Layla glared at him.

Thranduil did not respond to her but merely regarded her with mild amusement.

At that moment, the servants returned with the second course and proceeded to serve them.

“There is one other thing…” Layla began as soon the servants retreated.

“What is that, princess?” he asked her.

“I don’t need both servants…they would only get in Nella’s way. One servant will suffice,” she hoped he wouldn’t fight her on this.

“Which one do you want?” he asked her.

“Irina,” she replied.

“Consider it done. As you can see, I am not as difficult as you believe me to be,” he smiled at her.

“I thank you for that,” she smiled before sampling her second course.

The King had an otherworldly handsomeness that unnerved her at times and she tried to hide it with aloofness. Layla couldn’t imagine drawing close to someone who was as unreadable and impenetrable as he. She also imagined that he did not make friends too easily. How could she ever take for a husband someone who was so lacking in warmth? Could she survive such austerity?

It was only a month. She would fulfill her duty for her king father’s sake and then depart gracefully.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Layla headed for the clearing near the river to begin her first lesson in archery. She spotted Thranduil and his guards from afar and hoped that he was early and she wasn’t late.

“My lady,” Andir, a servant standing beside Thranduil greeted her as he handed her a bow.

“Good morning, princess. Are you ready for your first lesson,” the Elvenking asked her.

“I am.” she replied as she studied the bow.

The bow felt light in her hands which should allow her better control and it was ideal for training, or so Thranduil had explained to her.

“Then let us begin,” he stated without further ado.

Layla soon discovered that archery required very different muscles from those used in sword fighting, namely the ones on her shoulders. In spite of the pain she felt in her muscles, she never once complained. She hated to be seen as a weakling, least of all by him.

Thranduil was tough on her when he needed to be and praised her with every improvement. He admired her discipline, her strength, and her ability to learn quickly. His kingdom could use a warrior like her, but she would make an ideal mate, once she stopped despising him.

A month’s time will come and go in an instant, a most sobering thought. Thranduil was determined not to let her slip through his fingers. He hadn’t forgotten the kiss they shared that night in her quarters. He wanted more and he intended to get it.

“I believe we’re done for today,” he announced the end of their training session.

Layla smiled as she admired the perfect shot she just made, a fluke really, but perfect nonetheless.

Thranduil hadn’t seen her smile like this since she had left her home in Rohan. There was a radiance about her that touched everything and everyone around her.

“I must admit that I enjoyed this more than I expected,” she beamed.

“You did well,” he complimented her.

“Couldn’t we continue for another hour?” she was enjoying this too much.

“No. You must eat and rest. We’ll train again tomorrow,” he said firmly.

“Are you always this tough?” she teased him.

“It’s for your own good,” he admonished her as he began leading them back to the palace.

Layla could not wait until tomorrow. She had enjoyed her first archery lesson immensely and she had to admit that she also enjoyed the Elvenking’s company for a change.

******

They met again the next morning at seven for her second lesson. Layla shoulders and arms were feeling awfully sore and she was painfully aware of the blisters that had formed on two of her fingers. It didn’t matter for she was determined to get through today’s lesson.

Halfway through her lesson, Thranduil removed the bow from her hands.

“What are you doing?” she knew they weren’t finished yet.

Without responding, he grabbed her hand and examined her bleeding fingers.

“You need to have this tended,” he said firmly.

“I will, after we finish our lesson,” she would not allow something so trivial as bleeding blisters to get in the way of her training.

“We’re finished for today,” he declared in his usual authoritative voice.

Layla was about to protest when, Andir, the servant standing quietly beside them spoke up.

“My lord, I can bandage her fingers now if that helps,” he was already rummaging through his rucksack.

“You may bandage her fingers but our lesson will resume tomorrow morning,” Thranduil said sternly.

One look at his eyes and Layla decided to hold her tongue. Things have been somewhat pleasant between them and she didn’t want to spoil it. However, she couldn’t help feeling annoyed that he was treating her like a delicate flower when she was a seasoned warrior.

Andir quickly placed a salve on her fingers and then began to bandage them expertly, under Thranduil's watchful eyes.

“Thank you, Andir. That feels much better,” she said after he was finished.

The servant bowed his head before gathering their things and returning to the palace.

“We’re having a feast tonight in the forest,” Thranduil informed her as they made their way back to the palace with the guards following closely behind them.

“An outdoor feast? You certainly have great weather for it,” she noted.

“I would like for you to join us,” he invited her.

“I’ve never attended an elven feast. It sounds like it might be fun,” she replied.

“You have no idea,” Thranduil smirked at her.

As someone who grew up among those of the race of men, she had very little exposure to elves. It would be interesting to learn something about her elven side.

******

“A feast? Outside?” Nella repeated as she helped Layla into a simple, silk lavender gown.

“Yes. I’m certain there will be plenty of music, food, and wine,” Layla was becoming excited about this evening’s festivities.

“I trust you have been behaving yourself with the Elvenking,” Nella raised her eyebrows at her.

“Of course I have. You should be very proud of me,” Layla smiled at her old servant.

“Now that’s a good child,” Nella kissed her cheek before reaching for the hairbrush on the vanity table. She began brushing Layla’s hair.

“How do you like it here?” Layla asked her.

“I like it just fine. Wherever you go, I follow,” Nella said emphatically.

“That's good to know but I also want you to be happy,” Layla said softly.

“I’m happiest when I’m with you, my baby,” Nella continued to brush her hair.

“So am I,” Layla had to admit. She couldn’t imagine ever leaving Nella behind.

“Does this mean you’ll consider marrying the Elvenking?” Nella asked with surprise in her voice, remembering how unhappy her mistress had been only days ago.

“Let’s say that I am partly open to the idea. I’ve seen a different side of him—one that appeals to me. He also has a great mind for battle strategy, just like Father,” Layla had a smile on her face as she spoke.

“It sounds like my baby is quite taken with Thranduil,” Nella chuckled.

“Nellie! Let’s not be too hasty. The month is not over yet,” Layla reminded her.

The knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Nella answered the door and saw that it was a female guard.

Layla suddenly remembered that Tauriel, the captain of the guard, was to escort her to the feast site in the forest.

“Are you ready, my lady?” Tauriel asked her.

Layla liked her instantly. Tauriel was confident, kind, and well-liked by everyone in the kingdom. Layla admired Tauriel’s skills as a fighter, but most of all, she was impressed that she held the position of captain of the guard--a position that was usually held by a male.

“You look lovely, my lady,” Tauriel complimented her as they walked down the hall.

“Thank you, Tauriel. Will the King be joining us soon?” Layla asked.

“The King is already there, my lady. He wanted to ensure that all was in order for the feast…” then she added, “I’m quite certain it’s for your benefit since this is your first elven feast,” Tauriel smiled at her.

Layla couldn’t help but wonder what other thoughts Tauriel had on the matter but she dared not ask for fear it would get back to the Elvenking. It was too soon to trust anyone here.

“I don’t doubt it will be a great feast,” Layla simply smiled.

As they continued to make their way to the feast, following closely behind them were two guests from Lórien who were staying at the palace through the end of the week.

“Who is she, Mother?” Alana asked in a demanding tone.

“She is Princess Layla Helmwood, daughter of the King of Rohan,” Elisse replied to her daughter.

“What is _she_ doing here?” Alana asked with disdain.

“The King has forged an alliance with her father. She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she?” her mother noted.

“An alliance? Does Thranduil plan to marry her?” Alana gaped at her mother with horror.

“Nothing of the sort, my darling. The matter is still being decided…she’s is only half elf. It would be best if you made good use of your time here,” her mother advised her.

“I don’t have much time, Mother. Have you forgotten that we leave at the end of this week?” Alana snapped at her mother.

“I never said you were leaving,” Elisse gave her daughter a conspiratory smile.


	6. Chapter 6

Layla and Tauriel arrived at the feast site by foot along with a handful of guards. The perimeter of the feast site was heavily guarded for everyone’s protection. Music and laughter filled the air in the forest.  Layla looked around her as she took in the festivities. She was amused by the sight of elves sitting high up on the tree branches singing and playing their flutes. It was a beautiful starry night with a pleasant breeze that caressed her skin.

Several feast tents were erected for the event. Layla's eyes fell on the largest tent which she imagined belonged to the Elvenking. Emerging from the tent’s entrance was Legolas, Thranduil’s son, his face set into a hard expression. Tauriel immediately led Layla to him.

“Legolas, have you met Layla yet?” Tauriel asked him.

“Not formally,” he said tightly.

Layla wondered if his father’s arrangement with her made him uncomfortable—or perhaps unhappy.

“It’s good to meet you, Legolas,” Layla said pleasantly.

“Likewise. I hope you’ll enjoy the festivities. Please excuse me,” he added, before heading in the direction of a group of guards.

“He seems rather distracted about something,” Layla couldn’t help commenting.

“I’m certain it’s nothing,” Tauriel tried to put her at ease, “Now let’s go inside so Thranduil will know that you’re here.”

When they entered the tent, they found Thranduil talking with his lead adviser, Linder. If he had noticed them entering the tent, he gave no indication.

“Perhaps this isn’t a good time,” Layla whispered to Tauriel as they waited patiently for the King.

“It’s quite all right,” Tauriel assured her.

Thranduil appeared to be wrapping up his discussion with Linder who then took his leave. The Elvenking’s eyes fell upon them, but his focus was on Layla. He found her exquisite in her elegant gown.

“Thank you, Tauriel,” the words were a form of dismissal which his captain of the guard understood all too well.

After Tauriel departed, Layla found herself alone in the large tent with the Elvenking. For a brief moment, she felt a bit out of sorts. It was the effect that Thranduil had on her but she was determined not to show it. After all, wasn’t she a fearless warrior?

“I’m glad you made it,” he said after taking a few steps toward her. He could smell her perfume, a freesia and lavender blend which he found intoxicating.

“I wouldn’t dream of missing my first elven feast,” Layla replied, chuckling nervously.

“Shall we?” he extended his right hand to her and she placed her hand in his.

When the Elvenking’s strong hand closed around hers, she immediately felt a thrilling sensation coursing through her entire body. It was almost like being in a dream.

Thranduil led her outside the tent to join in the festivities. Layla accepted some wine which the servants were serving from one of the tents.

“Sip slowly—Dorwinion wine is quite strong,” Thranduil cautioned her.

“Nella already warned me. She practically forced me to eat before coming here,” she laughed softly.

“She sounds very willful,” he commented.

“Nella has many redeeming qualities, but more importantly, she’s more like a mother to me,” Layla felt compelled to explain.

“I see,” he noted, half listening, as his eyes scanned their surroundings.

In that very instant Elisse and Alana decided to flock to them like a pair of geese.

“This is Elisse and her daughter Alana. They are visiting from Lórien,” Thranduil introduced them to Layla.

Layla could feel Alana’s eyes boring into her, barely concealing her curiously which was mingled with contempt.

“She’s quite lovely,” Elisse commented as her eyes briefly surveyed Layla.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Layla replied pleasantly.

“The pleasure is ours,” Elisse replied, while her daughter only stared at Layla.

Then Alana turned her eyes to the Elvenking, hers lips curling into her most charming smile.

“My lord, I do hope we can enjoy a private dinner together before we depart for Lórien,” she said sweetly.

“I’ll have my servants arrange it,” he smiled, not caring in the least bit.

“I look forward to it,” Alana replied, ignoring Layla completely.

Elisse and Alana were acquaintances of the Lady Galadriel and that had been the only reason why he had received them as guests in his palace.

Before her daughter pressed her luck any further, Elisse decided to excuse herself.

“We must not keep you from mingling with the others. Come along, darling," Elisse grabbed her daughter's arm and forced her to follow.

She seemed mortified by Alana’s less than courteous behavior towards Layla.

Thranduil continued to introduce Layla to many of the people at the feast and she noticed that he never left her side. She did not realize that this was intentional on his part for the Elvenking was suddenly feeling very possessive of her.

Quite subtly, Thranduil was making every effort to keep all other males away from her. He did not fail to notice how their eyes followed her in the crowd. One particular male, emboldened by the strong wine, went as far as approaching Layla for a dance but one hard look from the Elvenking sent him scrambling away.

Thranduil had to fight the urge to take her away from the feast and into his private quarters where he would have her all to himself, away from the prying eyes of other males. He hated the way they watched her for he could only imagine what was going through their simple minds. As he struggled with these thoughts, he wondered if he had already made her his own in his mind?

Layla could feel the tension he was trying so hard to hide. She was beginning to suspect his possessiveness over her, something she had never experienced with another male. She found herself liking it.

Suddenly, Layla began feeling slightly lightheaded after just a few sips of her wine. She quickly returned her drink to one of the servants nearby.

“Are you all right?” Thranduil inquired, his eyes filled with concern.

“Yes. I’m fine. The wine is a lot stronger than I expected,” she admitted.

“Let’s find you more open space,” he released her hand and placed it on the small of her back as he led her away from the thickness of the crowd.

They ended up in a less crowded part of the forest. Layla found that the open space allowed her to breathe a bit easier.

“Better?” he asked her.

“Much better,” she replied.

“Your elven half is not as dominant as I thought,” he smiled at her.

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow at him and then remembered the last time Thranduil made a comment about her elven half. He had surprised her while she was in the middle of her bath. She had been very furious with him then.

“I won’t hold it against you,” he brushed away a strand of her hair from her face. Layla was touched by the tender gesture.

“Tell me about the stars,” she gazed at the glittering gems in the clear night sky above her.

Thranduil smiled at her, remembering that her limited exposure to elves had also limited her knowledge of the stars. He proceeded to identify the stars for her and unveil their stories. She listened intently with fascination. Perhaps it was the bit of wine that she just had but she was enjoying the sound of his voice. It had a calming effect on her.

As he continued to speak, Layla slowly turned to face him. Thranduil became silent as his eyes met hers.

“Layla,” he said her name softly.

It was the first time she heard him say her name. He had always addressed her as “princess” and rarely without sarcasm.

Thranduil leaned down towards her and brushed his lips against hers. Layla parted her lips and began kissing him, tenderly at first and then more hungrily. She had wanted him more than she dared to admit.

Layla felt his arms wrapping around her as he drew her body firmly against his. They kissed a bit longer before she forced herself to withdraw from him.

“We cannot do this here,” she whispered breathlessly, worried that Legolas would see them.

“Then let’s return to my tent,” he said with fire in his eyes as his mouth claimed hers again.

This time, Layla broke away. “Is that wise? What about the feast? Your absence will be noticed."

“There is plenty of wine flowing to keep everyone occupied,” he was amused by her concern.

Thranduil placed an arm around Layla’s waist as he led her in the direction of his tent. She followed without any further protest for her body’s desire had succeeded in overpowering her mind. She hoped he would never learn that he had this much power over her.

When they entered the tent, Layla’s head was spinning. She was vaguely aware that Thranduil was securing the entrance to the tent when her eyes fell on the luxurious feather bed in the corner which she hadn’t noticed before. She wondered why he was keeping one in here for the feast. Was he in the habit of bedding females during a feast? Irrational jealousy burned inside of her like a hot coal.

Layla felt Thranduil’s hands around her waist but she quickly pulled away from him. She needed to know how many others he had taken to that bed. Suddenly, she felt like she was becoming one of those silly maidens back home—the very ones that she mocked so often for behaving foolishly over a male.

Thranduil stood before her but made no move to come after her. There was a look in his eyes that was a mixture of confusion and impatience.

“Have you changed your mind, princess?” he asked her in a steely voice.

 _He’s calling me “princess” again_ , Layla noted with irritation.

“Is this how you entertain yourself during your feasts?” she asked him in an icy tone.

“I don’t follow you,” Thranduil said with mild irritation. He was beginning to believe that she had been toying with him all along.

“The bed!” she practically shouted at him. “Are you in the habit of feasting upon any female that throws herself at you?”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed at what he perceived to be erratic behavior on her part, but then he quickly understood as his lips parted into a half smile. His little temptress was hot with jealousy.

“All of this over a bed?” he asked with amusement which only infuriated her further.

“Do not toy with my patience! Answer the question!” she demanded.

“Clearly you’re unfamiliar with elven customs. It is common to sleep under the stars after a feast,” he explained to her patiently.

Layla’s eyes turned upwards, “I do not see any stars from where I’m standing.”

“A king needs his comforts—a tent to protect me from the elements and a feather bed that is much preferable to the hard floor,” his eyes continued to study her carefully. Her anger was beginning to cool.

Somehow, Layla could sense that he was speaking the truth but that did not make her feel any better. Now he saw her as a fool who was given to irrational bursts of anger and jealousy. If he knew her better, he would know that this was not her way—not until now.

“Forgive me,” she said as she swallowed her pride.

He approached her slowly and cupped her chin with his hand, lifting it gently.

“You can make it up to me,” the implication was very clear.

Layla’s lips broke into a smile.

“Then you must help me with my gown,” she said coyly.

“I’m happy to oblige,” he replied as his hands traveled slowly down to her bodice and lingered there.

Suddenly, Thranduil surprised her when he proceeded to rip her bodice apart.

“What will I wear?!” she gasped but he silenced her with a passionate kiss.

As he continued to kiss her deeply, she soon forgot about her shredded gown which was now pooled around her feet on the floor. She felt his hands tugging at her shift and she silently hoped he wouldn’t tear the only piece of clothing she had left. To her relief, he pulled it over her head and then discarded it to the floor.

His hands began tracing the feminine curves of her body with slow, deliberate movements. It took every effort not to tremble at his touch. Her efforts were in vain for she shuddered uncontrollably when his lips brushed against the sensitive area on the side of her neck. It was both thrilling and terrifying to feel oneself losing control. The experience was completely foreign to her.

“Stop…” Layla inadvertently gasped the word she had been thinking. His touch was sweet torture.

“I intend to bed you tonight,” Thranduil murmured huskily against her neck, quite pleased with the effect he was having on her.

She could feel her skin tingling under his touch and her breathing quickening.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed where he laid her gently. She had half expected roughness from the Elvenking knowing that he had waited for her this long but his tenderness was a pleasant surprise. Her desire for him intensified as she watched him undress himself slowly. His powerful physique glowed beautifully against the flickering light of the lantern in the tent. Just looking at him made her feel like an unschooled maiden. There were so many sensations overwhelming her and most of them she couldn’t put to words for she had never experienced them before.

The magnificent Elvenking was now lying beside her on the bed and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and began to kiss him. Layla loved the feel of his bare skin against her body and she also loved how his golden hair caressed her skin.

His mouth moved from her lips to her neck where he kissed the hollow of her throat—here the scent of her fragrance was strongest and most intoxicating. He made a mental note to remind his princess to wear this fragrance for him always. Next, he traveled down to her breast where his lips brushed lightly across her nipple.

Layla’s body squirmed beneath him with each touch. It had never been this wickedly delightful with the Lord Denton. She parted her legs for him as she prepared to receive him, a prospect that promised to be both pleasurable and painful. Instead, she felt his hand slide down between her thighs as he continued to tease her hardened nipples. A cry of ecstasy escaped from her mouth when his fingers parted her flesh and began to pleasure her, bringing her to the edge of her climax but never beyond that point.

She could no longer bear the sweet torture and she came very close to begging him for her release. As if sensing her sweet agony, he covered her body with his own as he prepared to enter her. But before he did, he whispered unexpected words into her ear.

“I want all of you, Layla,” his eyes were burning with the desire to possess her.

Layla could barely comprehend his words and in her current state she would have agreed to anything, including becoming his slave.

“Yes,” she gasped, hoping the one word response would satisfy him.

She felt the tip of his arousal pressing against her tender flesh until he entered her. It took her a moment to adjust to his size and then she was able to lose herself to their lovemaking.

Layla could sense that he was being careful not to hurt her as he thrust into her. She also sensed that with the joining of their bodies, he was making her his. Every kiss, every touch, and each thrust was a mark of possession. She was more than happy to surrender to him.

When the flow of erotic pleasure between their bodies reached its peak, they climaxed together. She cried out his name as she clung desperately to him. Her head was spinning and her heart was beating furiously.

Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep in his arms.


	7. Chapter 7

Layla awoke the next morning to find Thranduil gazing upon her while she slept. It was a nice way to wake up.

“You’re truly beautiful, Layla,” he said softly as he brushed back her hair with his fingers.

“…and you are quite handsome yourself, my lord,” she smiled at him as she planted a kiss on his lips.

“Does this mean you’ll consider a union between us?” Thranduil caught her off her guard with the question.

“I thought I had a month to consider it?” Layla tried to make light of it.

Before Thranduil could reply, he heard the tapping at the entrance of the tent. It was none other than his servant, Andir.

After exchanging a few words with Andir, Thranduil requested that he summon Layla’s servant.

“Andir, please send Irina,” Layla requested before he took his leave.

“As you wish, my lady,” Andir replied before departing.

Thranduil gave her a questioning look.

“I would have expected you to summon your old trusted servant,” he said to her.

“Nella will give me a good tongue lashing if she finds me like this,” Layla chuckled.

“I should like to see that,” he teased her.

“I don’t doubt that you do,” Layla laughed.

Reluctantly, he kissed her cheek before informing her that he had to depart for the palace to attend to pressing kingdom matters.

“Why must you go this very instant?” Layla sighed, wishing she could keep him a little longer in bed.

“I’m beginning to suspect you no longer despise me, princess,” he commented as he began to dress.

“Only a little,” she smiled at him coyly.

“I don’t believe that,” he smiled at her.

Just as he was buttoning his tunic, Nella walked into the tent wearing the sternest expression on her face.

“Good morning, my lord,” Nella addressed Thranduil, and then turned to Layla, “Thought you could avoid me this morning, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to trouble you,” Layla replied innocently.

Nella’s eyes fell on the torn lavender gown on the floor.

“Did a wild boar attack you?” Nella asked her pointedly.

“Not exactly…” Layla fumbled for an explanation while trying hard not to laugh.

Thranduil appeared to be enjoying their exchange as he walked towards Layla and kissed her goodbye.

“Have fun, darling,” he said with a look of amusement in his eyes.

“Don’t leave me alone with her…she’s only going to get worse after you leave,” Layla whispered to him fiercely.

“My fiery princess requires a bit of tongue lashing now and then. I’ll be sure to thank her later,” he whispered back mischievously.

Within seconds, Thranduil departed from the tent, leaving the two women alone.

“This behavior isn’t fitting for a lady…much less for a princess. What do you have to say for yourself?” Nella picked up the torn gown from the floor.

“It was wonderful!” Layla replied with a deep sigh and a broad smile.

Nella burst into laughter and then shook her head.

“Does this mean my baby will marry the Elvenking?” Nella sounded hopeful.

“He asked me the same question earlier and I said the month was not over yet,” Layla replied.

“You shouldn’t be coy with the King. This is very important to him…and to you too,” Nella cautioned her.

“Oh Nellie, you worry so much,” Layla rose from the bed and hugged the old servant. She felt deliriously happy.

“Let’s get you dressed already! Thranduil won’t be too pleased to hear that you were prancing about naked in the middle of the forest,” Nella complained as she began to help Layla into a clean shift.

After Layla was finished dressing, they exited the tent to find over twenty guards posted around the tent, reminding her that the forest was not a safe place.

They continued on to the palace where Layla returned to her private quarters for a hot bath and a quiet breakfast alone. There were many things on her mind—things she did not understand. Why did she feel so empty when they were apart? Why was she thinking about him so much? Was she going mad?

Layla took a sip from her tea and counted the minutes until she saw him again.

******

“He spent the night with her,” Alana said sullenly.

“What of it?” Elisse replied indifferently.

“I am worried, Mother, and you should be too!” Alana was angry at her mother’s indifference.

“Is he married?” Elisse asked her daughter.

“No…” Alana looked confused.

“Then he is free to spend the night with whomever he chooses. Now stop this petty behavior…it doesn’t become you. If you hope to be queen someday, I suggest you start behaving like one,” Elisse chastised her daughter.

Alana remained silent while she gave further consideration to her mother’s words.

“What shall I do now?” Alana asked in a subdued voice.

“I’ve arranged for us to have dinner with the King tonight,” Elisse informed her daughter.

“Have you?” Alana sounded hopeful but then her expression soured, “Will _she_ be joining us? He never left her side last night.”

“No, darling. I insisted on discussing a very private matter with him—only I will feign illness just before dinnertime, leaving you alone with the King. I suggest you make good use of that time. Don’t disappoint me,” Elisse warned her.

“I won’t, Mother,” Alana smiled in anticipation.

******

Layla soon learned from Irina that she will not be seeing Thranduil until after dinner. She was further disheartened when Irina informed her of his private dinner with Alana this evening.

“How could he do this to me? Does he think he can toy with my affections?” Layla said with indignation.

“My baby, you shouldn’t jump to conclusions. You’ll only destroy your budding romance with him. It’s a very delicate thing that you share with him,” Nella cautioned her.

“I cannot help how I feel. I will not look the other way and pretend that this doesn’t bother me!” Layla shot back at the old servant.

“Careful, Layla. You cannot allow others to hear you say these things for it will get back to the King,” Nella continued to caution her angry mistress.

“Nella…what is the matter with me? I’m usually more rational than this,” Layla appeared deeply troubled.

“Oh, my baby! Please don’t despair. It’s perfectly normal to feel this way when one is falling in love,” Nella soothed Layla as she held her in her arms.

Layla quickly withdrew from Nella’s arms.

“Nellie…I’m not falling in love. I only want him to be more respectful to me,” Layla quickly became defensive.

“Good heavens! Such stubbornness! I don’t have the energy to argue with you about your feelings but you shouldn’t judge the Elvenking so hastily,” Nella shook her head and muttered under her breath as she busied herself around her mistress’s quarters.

Layla decided to read in her sitting room but as soon as she sat on the small sofa and opened a book, her mind kept drifting away. She wondered if there was some truth in Nella’s words. Was she beginning to develop feelings for the Elvenking? It was unfamiliar territory for her. She had never been in love before. Lord Denton had only been a pastime for her and the young male before him had been the same. She had never given them a single thought beyond the bedroom.

******

Thranduil was studying Alana suspiciously while they sat for dinner in one of the smaller banquet halls.

“Where is your mother?” one of the servants had already informed him that Elisse was not well but he preferred to hear it directly from her daughter. Perhaps he would catch her in a lie.

“Forgive me, my lord, we sent word earlier with a servant that my mother was not well. Did you not receive the message?” Alana asked quite innocently.

“I did. Will she be all right?” He asked.

“Thank you for asking, my lord. The growing threat of orcs has caused my mother to be deeply concerned over my safety. She doesn’t believe I’m safe in Lórien,” Alana explained in a somewhat troubled tone.

“They present a threat everywhere,” Thranduil replied rather dismissively as he sipped from his wine goblet.

“Not here. It is known throughout Middle-earth that you protect your kingdom better anyone,” Alana tried her best attempt at flattery to soften the King.

Thranduil was no fool but he also did not want to appear insensitive to his guest—not without cause.

“I will speak with your mother when she’s feeling better,” Thranduil offered.

“You have my gratitude,” Alana smiled graciously.

Meanwhile, Thranduil could not wait another moment until he saw Layla. She had consumed his thoughts all day. He found himself missing her more than he dared to admit.

******

Layla did not remember nodding off to sleep but she awoke to find the book slipping off her lap, only it wasn’t slipping off. Someone was removing it from her lap.

Her breath caught when she saw it was Thranduil. Any anger she felt earlier quickly melted away at the sight of him. Layla rose from her seat and embraced him without saying a word. She felt his arms wrapping around her as he hugged her tightly.

As he held Layla in his arms, he could feel her heart beating against his chest. He had craved her company all day, the feel of her soft skin, and the scent of her fragrance.

“I missed you, princess,” he spoke the words softly into her hair.

Layla looked up at him and saw a tenderness in his eyes that she had never seen before. She was at a loss for words and could only respond by kissing him tenderly.

“I missed you, too,” Layla said softly as she clung to him.

Thranduil lifted her easily in his arms and carried her to the bed where he laid her down gently. After undressing each other, they surrendered to hours of lovemaking, slowly exploring and pleasuring each other’s bodies.

After they climaxed together they held each other tightly, neither one wanting to let go. It was then that Layla knew deep in her heart that she would never leave him.

He was _the_ one.

******

The next morning, they talked quietly in bed almost as if nothing else existed in this world but the two of them. Layla enjoyed having the great Elvenking all to herself.

Thranduil did not want to imagine her ever leaving for Rohan. It was important that he let her know this before the month came to a close.

“I don’t want you to leave, Layla,” he said softly.

“I have no intention of leaving,” she smiled at him.

“Good,” he smiled back at her before kissing her brow.

“I cannot believe that only three months ago I hated you,” Layla chuckled.

“…and now?” his eyes bore into hers.

“Now…I cannot imagine a life without you,” she replied softly and she meant every word.

“Neither can I,” he caressed her face.

“I think I will train with Tauriel today…” Layla suddenly became aware that she had not trained with her sword since her arrival here. It was very important to keep her skills sharp.

“You do not wish to train with me anymore…” Thranduil seemed perplexed by her comment.

“I meant sword training, darling. I’ve never trained with a female before and perhaps I can learn something from your captain of the guard,” Layla explained.

“Tauriel is not skilled with the longsword,” he replied pensively.

“Should I guess that you’re the most skilled person with the longsword in your kingdom?” Layla chuckled.

Thranduil remained silent and Layla was suddenly preoccupied.

“Is something the matter?” she asked him.

His eyes studied her for a moment before responding.

“Did you continue your secret meetings with the Lord Denton?” he took on a serious tone.

Layla knew she had to tread carefully for she suspected that Thranduil was very possessive. It was obvious by the way his body stiffened when he posed the question to her. This was no time to play the coy female.

“No. I haven’t seen him since the night you chased him away,” Layla responded as she ran her fingers through his long, golden hair—a soothing gesture on her part.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Thranduil seemed satisfied with her response.

Layla could sense that he believed her for she felt his body relaxing against hers. She was telling the truth after all. She had no desire to meet with the cowardly Lord Denton again—not when she could have the fierce Elvenking.

******

Later that day he arranged for them to meet in a garden just outside the palace that faced the stream that flowed into the Forest River. It was a peaceful and beautiful place—perfect for their budding romance.

They continued to meet in this garden every day for about an hour. Sometimes they would enjoy a meal together and other times they would talk or share a kiss. It was a prelude to the hours of lovemaking they shared each night. They never seemed to get enough of each other.

One particular afternoon, while they sat on the grassy ground in the garden, Layla could not shake the unsettling feeling inside of her.

“I have been here three weeks now…” she began thoughtfully.

“Are you not happy, princess?” he drew her closer to him with the arm that was already hooked to her back.

“I am…but I am troubled,” she hesitated.

“What troubles you, Layla?” he asked, his brow knitting with confusion.

“Why is Alana still here? Her mother departed two weeks ago…” Layla had tried to remain quiet about her uneasiness but she could no longer contain herself. She suspected that Alana had designs on her Elvenking.

“I only meant to give her mother some peace of mind about her safety. If you would like her gone, you only need to say so,” Thranduil was more than willing to appease her.

“I want her gone,” Layla replied without hesitation. She had grown weary of Alana’s cutting remarks and her efforts to spend time alone with Thranduil.

“It is done, my love. She leaves at the end of this week,” he leaned down and kissed her cheek reassuringly.

Layla gazed up at Thranduil, her eyes filled with surprise.

“Do you mean it?” she asked him softly.

“Of course I do. Alana will never trouble you again,” he said resolutely.

“That isn’t it…it’s what you said before that. Am I truly your love?” she asked softly.

Thranduil smiled at her, “Yes, princess…my love grows for you each day.”

Layla felt a tightening in her chest that overwhelmed her. Fighting back the tears, she reached up to him and kissed him deeply.

“I love you, Thranduil,” she declared to him.

Lifting her chin with a certain amount firmness, his blue eyes pierced hers deeply.

“Then consent to be my wife,” his words may have sounded like a demand to another but Layla knew him better that. It was his way of saying that he wanted her to be his lifetime companion more than anything in the world.

“I consent, my love,” Layla replied without a second thought.

Her words were like sweet music to his ears. Thranduil wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and carry her to his private quarters where he would make love to her the rest of the day.

Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

“My lord, I have a message from Rohan,” Andir spoke at once.

“From Rohan?” Thranduil replied.

“Yes, my lord. It’s for Princess Layla,” Andir shifted his gaze towards her.

Layla suddenly felt a shiver run down her spine as Andir handed the message to her. With hands that trembled slightly, she broke the seal and read the message written by Brandon, her father’s adviser.

After Layla finished reading Brandon's message, she closed her eyes, fighting to keep her composure.

“What is it, Layla?” Thranduil asked her, his voice filled with concern.

“My father has fallen gravely ill. I must leave for Rohan at once.”


	8. Chapter 8

The next hour was a blur as Layla readied herself for the journey to Rohan. Against her wishes, Nella had insisted on coming along.

“You can’t ask me to stay! I’ve known your father longer than you’ve been alive. He’s a good man and he was always kind to me. I must see him before he meets his end,” Nella was determined to join her mistress.

“I know all of this, Nellie. It’s a rough journey for someone your age and we must travel at speed,” Layla tried to reason with her.

“I will keep up,” Nella’s mind was made up.

Layla did not have the energy to continue arguing with Nella so she allowed her to come along. She prayed the old woman wouldn’t slow them down.

They packed hastily for the journey, only taking what they needed. With that thought in mind, Layla grabbed the delicate silver necklace with a small, diamond teardrop pendant. Thranduil had given her many gifts but this one was her favorite for when she wore it, the pendant rested against her heart, a symbol of their love. She had said as much to him.

******

When they were standing at the gate, Layla found it difficult to tear herself away from Thranduil’s arms. He didn’t make it any easier as he held her tightly against his chest. In truth, it pained him to let her go. He couldn’t explain it to himself, but something about her impending departure was very unsettling to him.

“I want you to send word to me if you need anything,” he said as he continued to hold her.

“I only need you,” Layla said softly.

“You already have me,” he kissed the top of her head tenderly.

Her eyes fell on the doorway where she spotted Alana standing at the far end of the hall, watching them closely. She knew Thranduil would keep his word and send her away by the week’s end. There was no point in bringing this up especially now when she was preparing to leave for Rohan.

With one last embrace, Layla departed with Nella and a dozen elven guards. She ached for her ailing father and she ached for the love she was leaving behind. _It won’t be long until I see him again_ , she reminded herself.

As Thranduil watched his beloved leaving he heard Alana’s voice beside him.

“She will return to you before you know it, my lord,” Alana said softly in a voice that was meant to both soothe and deceive.

Alana knew it would be foolish to speak ill of the princess for it would only incur the Elvenking’s wrath. Instead, she sought to shower him with kindness and endear herself to him during Layla’s absence since it was possible that she would be gone for a while. She would take her mother’s advice and make good use of her time.

******

Layla made the journey to Rohan without stopping for fear she would reach her father too late. She hated that this would be very trying for Nella, but to her credit, the old servant never complained once.

Hours later, they made it to the front gate of the castle and Layla was struck by an eerie feeling as she became keenly aware of her surroundings. While she dismounted, she heard the distinct sound of wailing around her and she dared not guess what this meant.

“Layla!” she was relieved to hear Drake’s familiar voice.

He was immediately by her side as he embraced her.

“I’m sorry, Layla…your father has already passed on,” his voice was grief-stricken.

“No-no, Drake. Please say it isn’t true,” she begged him.

Drake struggled to reply as he continued to hold her tightly.

“Please come inside,” he led her through the castle’s gate and into the great hall.

Once they were inside the great hall, Layla turned to him.

“Why are you bringing me in here? I want to see my father!” Layla’s anguish was more than evident.

“I wanted to give you some privacy. All eyes are on your father’s heirs now. The people cannot see any weakness among us or they will begin to undermine the strength of our kingdom,” Drake explained.

“I don’t care about any of this! I only want to see my father!” Layla was losing what little composure she had left.

“I’ll take you to his quarters. Your father collapsed in the throne room only several hours ago. He was taken to his quarters where the healers tended to him. It was the last time we saw him alive,” Drake began to lead her in that direction.

Layla whimpered as the words sunk in. She was too late.

Drake placed a comforting arm around her shoulders as they made their way to the dead king's quarters.

 _Where is Cedric?_ Layla wondered silently. It occurred to her that she had not seen her brother anywhere, but then she remembered that she had only just arrived. Perhaps he was with their father.

When they reached her father’s quarters, Layla paused outside the door. Suddenly, she couldn’t face what was on the other side of that door.

“Layla,” Drake said her name softly.

“I can’t,” she whispered back, her lower lip trembling.

Without saying another word, Drake guided her through the door. She leaned heavily against her cousin, grateful to have him by her side to give her the strength she needed so desperately.

When Layla reached the foot of her father’s bed, she burst into tears at what she saw. This gray, stiff corpse was not her father. Her father had been a great king, full of life, and always had a twinkle in his eyes when he smiled at her. Now he was reduced to this lifeless body.

She slowly sat on the bed beside her father’s corpse and kissed its brow. The skin felt cold and unnatural to the touch. If only she had arrived hours earlier then she would have been able to say goodbye to him properly. Deep down inside she knew it was impossible. She slid off the bed and knelt on the floor as she buried her head on the bed and cried bitterly.

Drake squeezed her shoulder, “I’ll be just outside the door if you need me.”

Layla was vaguely aware of her cousin as he departed but she was fully aware of the pain that was tearing her apart.

Some time later, she couldn’t remember how long she had remained on her knees beside the bed until Drake shook her shoulder gently.

“We must go, Layla. They’re about to prepare the body for the viewing and burial,” he said as he helped her onto her feet.

As Layla allowed her cousin to lead her out, her legs felt like lead and her body was numb all over. In spite of her pitiful state, she still had the presence of mind to remember Thranduil. _I must send word to Thranduil of my father’s death_ , she thought to herself.

Layla needed Thranduil more than ever by her side and she knew he would come to her. She only had to ask.

When Layla reached her quarters, she immediately sat before the small desk in her sitting room and began writing a message for Thranduil. Twice she wet the parchment with her tears but she managed to finish her message to her beloved.

She heard the sound of the door opening.

“Nella?” she called out.

Layla had momentarily forgotten about her servant after learning of her father’s death. Instead of Nella, she saw Grace entering her sitting room.

“Where is Nella?” Layla was preoccupied about the old servant. Nella had always been diligent about her duties, even when she was ailing.

“She is resting, my lady…something about her old joints,” Grace informed her.

“Nella should rest,” Layla felt a bit guilty for pressing her on the journey to Rohan. It made no difference after all for her father had passed shortly after she received word of his declining health.

“May I be of service, my lady?” Grace asked eagerly.

“I need to send an urgent message to Thranduil. Please give this to Brandon and have him send it right away,” Layla placed the parchment in Grace’s hand.

“At once, my lady,” Grace said before taking her leave.

******

Grace made her way down the castle’s corridors until she found him alone in his quarters, gazing out the window of his bedroom.

“My lord, the princess wishes to send an urgent message to the Elvenking,” Grace informed him.

“Does she?” Cedric turned to face the servant.

“Yes…and I thought it would be best to come to you first,” Grace added as she handed the parchment to Cedric.

Cedric wrapped his hand around the piece of parchment, his eyes fixed on Grace knowingly. _The wench wasn’t so dimwitted after all_ , he thought to himself.

Carefully, he broke the seal on the parchment and proceeded to read Layla’s message to the Elvenking. When he was done, he directed his gaze at Grace, studying her closely.

“You did well, Grace,” he finally spoke.

“Did I, my lord?” Grace was beyond ecstatic for she had pleased the soon-to-be king of Rohan.

“When I am king, I shall reward you with the most coveted position in the kingdom,” his words held great promise for the ambitious young servant.

Grace’s eyes widened with excitement. _He means to make me his queen_ , she mused.

“Truly, my lord? I shall do whatever you require to remain in your favor,” she sputtered eagerly.

“There is one more thing,” he turned his back to her as he retrieved parchment and quill from his desk.

“Anything, my lord,” Grace replied, hanging on every word he spoke.

“You will write a new message to the Elvenking,” Cedric sneered.


	9. Chapter 9

The very next day, the old king of Rohan was scheduled to be buried. Layla was appalled by her brother’s eagerness to place their father in the ground. Later, she learned Cedric's coronation was scheduled for the following morning. There were many lords and common people from all races who were traveling from far away to pay their final respects to the dead king. It would be a miracle if even a third of them arrived in time for the viewing.

Layla stood perfectly still before her father’s body which the guards laid on a bier on top of a stone alter in the center of the Hall of Kings. She was no longer crying for she had done plenty of that all night. Now she felt numb to her very core. In spite of the numbness that had descended upon, her mind continued to wonder about Thranduil. Surely he would have sent word to her by now. Despair and doubt began to gnaw at her heart. Had he decided not to come? She found that she needed him desperately in her time of grief. His love would give her the strength she needed to get through this day. Layla absentmindedly placed her right hand against her chest where she felt the teardrop pendant through the fabric of her gown. A small comfort but it was all she had of Thranduil at the moment.

She saw Brandon standing by the doorway wearing a solemn expression. He had been one of her father’s trusted servants.

Layla found herself making her way to the adviser and when she reached him, she asked him the question that had been burning in her head.

“Brandon, did you send my message to Thranduil?” she asked him.

“Yes, my lady. I sent it this morning,” he replied with a sad smile.

“This morning?? It should have gone out yesterday afternoon, just after I wrote it,” Layla said incredulously.

“Forgive me, my lady. Your servant only gave me your message this morning,” Brandon replied, his brow creasing with worry.

Layla was partly relief for it meant that Thranduil had not ignored her message. Another part of her was furious with Grace for the delay.

“It’s all right, Brandon. Better late than never,” she managed a smile for him. She will deal with Grace later.

When Layla returned to her place before the altar, she found her brother Cedric standing there. It was the first time she had seen him since her return to Rohan. He had refused to see her last night when she wanted to question him about the wisdom of burying their father so soon. He barely acknowledged her with a glance. _Nothing has changed_ , Layla reflected sadly. She prayed for Thranduil’s swift arrival.

******

After the burial, Layla returned to her quarters only to discover that her servants had abandoned her. _Where is Nella?_ She suddenly realized she hadn’t seen the servant since yesterday when she left her at the gate. _Had she fallen seriously ill?_ She thought worriedly. Then she remembered how much she wanted to wring Grace’s neck for failing to complete a simple task. _Where is the little fool?_ Layla wondered impatiently.

Layla was about to storm out into the hallway in search of help when she found her brother standing on the other side of the way. The chilling look on his face left her speechless. He was accompanied by at least five or six guards, she noticed.

Cedric did not wait for an invitation as he barged into her quarters with two of his guards. The other guards remained outside the door, or were they blocking it?

“What is this about, Cedric?” Layla could not help feeling alarmed.

Her brother smiled at her smugly, reveling in her vulnerable state.

“Tomorrow morning I will be the new king of Rohan. As king, my first order will be to strengthen our kingdom against our enemies. How shall I accomplish that, my dear sister?” he posed the question to her.

“Why don’t you tell me…” Layla replied, not wanting to take part in his little cat and mouse game.

“Certainly,” he was more than happy to continue, “I intend to form a viable alliance that will protect our kingdom. The best of alliances are created by way of marriage. That is why you will marry the crown prince of Gondor two days from today.”

“No-no,” Layla’s eyes widened as she shook her head vigorously. “Father already formed an alliance with Thranduil and we plan to get married.”

“Let me remind you that Father is dead. I don’t recognize his agreement with the Elvenking as I was never included in that discussion. In any event, such an alliance is of no value to us for the Woodland Realm lies far from here. We can never hope to receive any timely help from the Elvenking should our kingdom come under attack,” Cedric was relishing every word.

“I will not marry Farlin. You cannot make me!” Layla replied angrily.

“You are wrong, sister. You do not have a choice…unless you do not value the life of that old servant of yours. When did you last see old Nella?” Cedric grinned at her cruelly.

“Nella…” she whispered, “You wouldn’t.”

“I’m keeping her in the dungeon for now. You will be a good little princess and marry Prince Farlin. A dungeon is no place for an old woman—she will likely perish before long,” Cedric seemed very pleased with himself when he beheld the look of disbelief on Layla’s face.

“You will not get away with this. Thranduil is on his way here. Brandon sent my message to him this morning,” Layla hoped this would deter her brother from taking any action against her.

“Wrong, Layla! I swapped your message with the one I wrote—forgive me, Grace wrote it for me. She has such beautiful handwriting, very much like yours,” he chuckled with amusement.

Layla stared at her brother with horror for now she was beginning to see clearly the nightmare that was unfolding before her.

“What did you say to him?” Layla dreaded his response.

“Let’s just say that after Thranduil reads your message, he will curse the very day he met you,” Cedric said with a grin.

In a sudden fit of rage, Layla flew at him, her fist landing squarely on his face. The two guards who were standing silently beside her brother suddenly came alive, each one restraining her by grabbing her arms.

 _The stupid little wench can hit_ , Cedric thought as he rubbed his face in pain. Then he slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, splitting her lower lip with his ring.

Layla hung her head as half of her face stung with pain. She couldn’t even touch it since the guards were still restraining her. Blood began trickling down her chin.

Cedric retrieved a handkerchief from one of his pockets and began dabbing her lower lip with it.

“Didn’t mean to ruin your pretty little face before your wedding day. I'll have a healer tend to that,” after he finished dabbing at her lip, he stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket.

“I want to see her…please,” Layla implored him, feeling defeated.

“Take her down to the dungeon to see the old wench. If she gives you any trouble, lock her up in one of the cells,” Cedric addressed the guards before departing from her quarters.

As Layla was led down to the dungeon, she studied the faces of the guards escorting her. These were her father's men. Surely they must understand that this wasn’t her father’s will.

“Philip,” she addressed the guard on her right, “my father would have never agreed to this madness. For the love you bore him, please let me go.”

“Sorry, my lady. We only obey our new king’s orders. I suggest you do the same,” was the guard’s gruff remark.

Layla realized that she was now no different than a servant. When her father was alive, none of the guards would hesitate to heed her commands. Now they treated her as someone beneath them. It was a very hard blow and one that her pride found difficult to swallow.

The unpleasant smells of the dungeon hit her just before she reached the entrance. Once inside, the stench grew stronger and the air felt damp and cold. _Poor Nella_ , she thought with a heart full of guilt. It was her love that had doomed the old woman to this fate.

They brought her before a cell but in the dimly lit dungeon, it was very difficult to see anything beyond a few feet away. As her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting, she could make out the outline of a figure lying on a small cot in the darkest corner of the cell.

“Nella,” she called out to her.

The prisoner did not stir, remaining motionless on the cot.

“Please unlock the door so I may speak to her,” she said to Philip.

The guard saw no harm in her request and called for the jailor to unlock the door.

After the jailor unlocked the door, he swung it open for her. Layla hesitated before stepping forward, dreading what she would discover.

“Nellie,” she whispered to the old servant when she came near her.

The old woman groaned in pain as she turned to face her.

“My baby…” she murmured.

To Layla’s horror, she saw that Nella’s left eye was bruised and swollen shut.

“What have they done to you, Nella?” Layla asked her as she knelt before the cot to face her.

“Leave me be, my baby. I’m an old woman and it’s my time to go. Save yourself,” Nella spoke weakly.

“No, Nellie. I will not abandon you. I’ll marry this wretched prince if it means saving you from this dreadful place. I’ve already lost my father…I’ll not lose you too,” Layla insisted as tears began to run down her face.

“Listen to me, child…you must go to Thranduil before you lose him,” Nella urged her.

“I can’t and I won’t…not until you’re free and safe with me,” Layla kissed Nella’s brow.

“You’re being foolish, my baby…you must flee,” Nella whispered to her.

“Let’s go!” Layla heard the harsh voice behind her.

Layla rose to her feet and addressed the guard.

“I want a healer to tend to her,” she demanded.

“Take it up with the King,” Philip said dismissively as he grabbed her arm, not so gently, and led her out of the cell.

“Please! You can’t leave her this way! She’s too frail!” Layla cried out, half sobbing.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears as the guard shoved her out of the dungeon.

******

Thranduil was standing in the middle of his throne room, his brow creased into a frown as he read the message that Layla had sent to him.

After reading the message a third time, he closed his eyes while the muscles on his neck tightened further.


	10. Chapter 10

No matter how many times he read the words, they never changed…the message was always the same.

 

_Dear Thranduil,_

_I write to inform you that my father has passed away._

_With the passing of my father many changes will be brought about for the benefit of our kingdom._

_With this in mind, it is imperative that we choose our allies carefully._

_I regretfully inform you that I cannot marry you. I plan to wed the crown prince of Gondor, a more practical alliance for Rohan._

_You are no longer bound to our alliance._

_I wish your kingdom many years of peace and prosperity._

_Layla_

 

 _This cannot be. Layla would never do this to me_ , he agonized in silence.

He did not notice Alana standing by the entrance way, always lurking in the shadows, watching him intently from afar like a spider stalking its prey. It was quite plain to her that Thranduil was deeply distressed by something or someone. Since Legolas was safe at home, this could only be about his beloved Layla. _Has she died?_ Alana could only hope. _Has she broken the Elvenking’s heart by putting an abrupt end to their romance?_ Alana thought the latter would be the better option—Thranduil could grow to hate her.

“My lord,” her voice flowed like sweet honey from the entrance way.

Still reeling from the news, Thranduil turned to face her but didn’t utter a single word for words had escaped him. He had a glazed look in his eyes.

Alana took advantage of the King’s rare display of vulnerability and approached him cautiously, mindful of the eyes of the guards that watched her closely. She was wearing a shimmering light blue gown with a plunging neckline that revealed a generous amount of cleavage.

When Thranduil did not speak, Alana decided to proceed.

“I can see that you are deeply troubled, my lord. Please allow me to share my counsel with you. I only wish to help,” she placed a gentle hand on his arm as she positioned herself closer to him, making certain that he had a clear view of her cleavage.

With his guard down and his distress growing, Thranduil abandoned his cautious self for that brief moment and proceeded to share with her the details of his plight.

“I believe her brother is forcing her to do this,” he concluded.

“Then you must trust your instincts, my lord. You must go to her and rescue her from this dreadful fate,” she urged him.

Alana had no intention of helping Thranduil rescue his princess but if saying these words helped her win his trust, then that’s exactly what she would do.

“I must see this for myself. I plan to leave for Rohan at once,” his jaw tightened with determination.

“I will join you, my lord,” Alana stated, hoping Thranduil would not oppose.

“That won’t be necessary,” Thranduil replied as he began heading out the throne room.

“Please, my lord. I can help…I can talk sense into her if need be…one female to another. Together we will get to the bottom of this,” Alana persisted.

“Why do you want to do this?” Thranduil halted his step and turned to Alana, ready to berate her.

“You were kind enough to ease my mother’s fear for my safety by allowing me to stay here. Now I wish to repay your kindness. Please, my lord…let me do this,” Alana pleaded with much fervor.

“It is a foolish request but I’ll allow it,” Thranduil replied with some reluctance, but he was willing to do just about anything to get Layla back.

“Thank you my, lord. I will help you anyway I can,” she assured him.

Thranduil's eyes dropped down to the cleavage that she was so eagerly displaying for him.

"I expect you to wear something more appropriate if you hope to speak with my beloved," Thranduil said sharply before leaving his throne room.

"As you wish, my lord," Alana whispered the words with a smile. She was now confident that one day she would delight the Elvenking with these assets.

Alana had won a small victory today which will no doubt lead to many others until she won the final prize.

******

“Is this truly wise, Father?” Legolas wondered if his father had taken leave of his senses.

Legolas and Tauriel had been discussing a plan to reinforce the palace further after several of the soldiers reported orc activity in the distance. In the middle of their discussion, Thranduil had stormed into the small council hall and demanded to speak with Tauriel.

“Are you questioning my judgment?” Thranduil was in no mood to be undermined by anyone, not even his own son.

“Father, I only meant that you should let her go if that is what she desires,” Legolas did not understand his father’s irrational obsession with the Rohirrim princess.

“Layla is being coerced into this decision!” Thranduil shot back angrily.

“If you march before their gates with an army, the Rohirrim will view it as a declaration of war,” Legolas stubbornly stood his ground against his father.

“I will give them war if they do not give me what was promised to me,” Thranduil eyes brimmed with anger.

“Does she mean this much to you, Father? If so, I do hope you mean just as much to her,” Legolas hoped to reason with his father by giving him a dose of hard truth.

Thranduil bristled at his son’s words. Had he been anyone else, he would have struck him. Before he could respond to him, Tauriel intercepted between them.

Tauriel had watched silently as father and son exchanged angry words. Legolas words struck a chord within her. She could no longer hold her silence.

“Legolas, your father is right. Layla would never betray him…she loves him deeply. I know this for I have spent enough time with her. I can say with certainty that she was forced to write that letter. If that is the case, Layla needs our help,” then turning to Thranduil, she added, “What would you have me do, my lord?”

Thranduil appeared to have softened at her words, his anger quickly dissipating as he refocused on the task at hand—rescuing his beloved.

“I want you to assemble an army for me as I plan to depart within the hour. I suggest you hurry,” Thranduil ordered her.

“Yes, my lord,” Tauriel replied and quickly departed to begin assembling the soldiers.

“If she means this much to you, then I will join you,” Legolas said to his father.

“Do as you like but _do not_ get in my way,” Thranduil warned his son.

******

A healer was treating the small cut on Layla’s lower lip while inspecting her face for any bruising. The future king’s orders were quite clear. Fortunately for the healer, there was no visible bruising on Layla’s face. There was a slight swelling on her lip but it would disappear once the potent salve began to take effect.

“Where is my brother?” Layla asked the healer.

“He is presently in his quarters, my lady,” the healer replied.

“Please let him know that I wish to speak with him,” Layla said in a pleading tone.

She was being held captive in her own home. Cedric had posted guards outside her door to keep her confined to her quarters.

“I will let him know, my lady,” the healer replied quietly.

“Will you tend to Nella’s injuries?” Layla asked her. She was deeply troubled by Nella’s condition.

“I will if your brother allows it, my lady,” was the only consolation the healer could offer her.

After the healer departed, Layla sat before her vanity mirror and stared at the strange face in the mirror. She couldn’t remember ever being this unhappy.

Without thinking, she reached for the only comfort she could find as she pulled the necklace from her chest and held the diamond teardrop pendant on the palm of her hand.

She missed him terribly.

******

It was early evening and Cedric was tucking his shirt into his trousers while Grace snored softly in his bed.

So far, everything was going according to plan. He cast a glance at the servant as she slept. _The little fool thinks that I will make her my queen_ , he smiled with malice in his heart. He enjoyed toying with her affections and manipulating her into doing his will.

Just as he was putting on his boots, the loud knocking on the door soured his mood. He took his time lacing his boots and then walked to the door to see who dared to demand his presence at this hour.

Selwick, his steward, was at the door, his face resembling a mask of fear.

“What is it, Selwick?” Cedric demanded impatiently.

“Thranduil and his army are standing outside our gates."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small twist...

Upon learning of the arrival of Thranduil and his army, Cedric slammed the door on Selwick’s face and began shouting profanities in his quarters.

Grace awoke with a start when she heard Cedric shouting.

“What is it, my lord?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

At the sound of her voice, Cedric turned in her direction and glowered at her. Rushing towards her like a madman, he grabbed a fistful of the servant’s hair and dragged her out of bed. Grace began shrieking with pain while begging him to release her. Instead, Cedric shoved her through the door as he tossed her out of his quarters.

Grace cried miserably as she found herself standing completely naked in the hallway which was filled guards, a few shouted lewd comments at her. Covering herself as best as she could, she rushed to her own room which was at the far end of the hallway.

When she reached the safety of her small room, she shut the door and collapsed on the floor, crying tears of shame. Her body bore old and new bruises inflicted by her cruel lover. It did not matter how many more bruises he added to her body for she would gladly endure them. More than anything, she wanted to be queen for she believed that no greater status can be conferred upon a woman.

Meanwhile, Cedric’s act of cruelty towards the servant had given him the calmness he needed to plan his next move. He sat quietly on a chair as he contemplated how best to approach the Elvenking.

He had underestimated Thranduil’s affection for his sister. He had been certain that the Elvenking would not have bothered with Layla after reading the message he had crafted on her behalf.

Once he settled on a plan, he rose from his chair and eased himself into his surcoat. He studied his reflection on the long oval mirror in his bedroom before heading out.

******

Outside the castle gates, Thranduil was reaching the end of his patience. He had every intention of storming the castle if he continued to be ignored.

Just as he was about to take action, he saw Cedric emerging from the castle, slowly making his way to him with an air of arrogance.

“Welcome, Thranduil. I must say your visit is rather unexpected,” then cocking his head to the side, Cedric assessed the size of Thranduil army, “Have you come to wage war against our kingdom? Let me remind you that we are in mourning.”

“Where is Layla?” Thranduil replied dismissively. He had no interest in verbal sparring—not when it involved someone like this despicable fool.

“My sister is in no condition to receive visitors. She is completely distraught over the passing of our father,” Cedric replied with a tone that bordered on mockery.

“I am not leaving until I speak with her,” Thranduil words carried a veiled threat.

“Very well, Thranduil. I will bring her to you after I’ve roused her from her tonic-induced slumber,” Cedric threw up his hands in mock defeat.

Thranduil only eyed Cedric with contempt. If he weren’t Layla’s brother, he would have cut him down with his sword by now. The Elvenking was not in the habit of suffering fools.

******

Layla had begun pacing anxiously in her quarters as she waited to hear word from her brother. The longer Nella’s injuries remained untreated, the more perilous they would become to her health.

She jumped with a start when she heard the door to her quarters slam open. Her brother strode into her quarters, flanked by two guards on either side.

Layla took some satisfaction in knowing that Cedric feared that she might overpower him.

“Have you sent a healer to treat Nella?” the question was immediately out of her mouth.

“All in good time, sister, but first you must do something for me,” he replied coolly.

Layla eyed her brother with growing suspicion, wondering what vile concoction was brewing in that nasty little mind of his.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“It appears that your Elvenking is more fond of you than I expected. He stands before our gates with his army as we speak,” Cedric informed her.

“Thranduil…” she whispered his name softly.

It was the first time she had learned of Thranduil’s visit for her quarters were located in the back of the castle. He had come for her in spite of her brother’s efforts to drive him away. The very thought warmed her heart, but that warmth was quickly replaced by a hair-raising chill that spread throughout her body. _What does my brother want from me?_ She despaired.

“Tell me, sister…what did you do to Thranduil that he should come before my gates with his army? Did you share some of your nectar with him?” Cedric drew close to his sister and placed a hand between her thighs, grabbing her roughly through the fabric of her gown.

“Get your hands off me!” Layla drew back in disgust.

Her reaction only seemed to amuse him.

“It’s time that you learn that everything in this castle now belongs to me. That includes you, little sister,” he sneered.

If he was trying to put fear into her heart, he succeeded. Layla no longer saw him as her brother—he was a dangerous monster.

“Listen up, sister, for I will only say this once,” he continued, “I am going to bring you before Thranduil and you will tell him that you wrote that letter to him. You no longer wish to marry him and you will marry Farlin. If you choose to go against me, I will give my men the signal,” he said with a cruel gleam in his eyes.

“What signal?” Layla was afraid to ask.

“The one that will bring instant death to your sweet Nella,” he grinned malevolently.

Layla thought she would become ill in that moment for she was having trouble breathing. She must have swayed on her feet for she felt her brother grabbing her arm as he tried to support her.

“Easy, Layla. We wouldn’t want you to fall on your face and have the Elvenking believe that I struck you. It’s a simple choice, sister—Nella’s life or Thranduil’s love. The choice is yours,” he continued to grin.

“I can’t lie to him,” Layla’s lips began to tremble.

“Sure you can…remember, it’s a matter of life and death,” he pressed a kiss against her forehead as he led her out of her quarters.

******

Thranduil was growing impatient once again, wondering why Cedric was taking this long to bring out his sister. He resisted the urge to pace restlessly for it would be perceived as a sign of weakness, giving Cedric the advantage. Normally, he wasn’t one to give in to weakness but Layla was consuming every fiber of his being—her absence and the possibility that her life was in danger. He needed to see her…to feel her.

Suddenly, his body tensed at the sight of her emerging from the castle entrance with her brother by her side. He hated the way Cedric's arm was intertwined with hers. Thranduil's eyes shifted to her face and remained fixed there.

Cedric escorted Layla halfway to Thranduil and left her there with some parting words.

“Remember, sister. My men are watching from above—one false move and they will slice her throat. Cooperate and I will have the healer tend to her. The choice is yours,” he kissed her temple softly before retreating to the sidelines where he could watch her carefully.

As soon as Cedric retreated, Thranduil did not waste another moment as he walked towards Layla. He couldn’t be certain but she didn’t appear happy to see him.

“Are you all right, Layla?” he placed his hands on either side of her arms, resisting the urge to embrace her for all eyes were upon them.

Layla thought she would die when she saw the raw agony in his eyes. He had been suffering over her and it pained her deeply.

“I’m fine, Thranduil,” she chose her words carefully. She could feel Cedric’s eyes burning into her.

“I know you didn’t write that letter,” he whispered to her, his eyes searching hers for the truth.

She remained silent for a brief moment but it felt like an eternity. She locked her eyes with his and held her breath while she collected her thoughts before uttering a response.

“You’re mistaken, Thranduil.”


	12. Chapter 12

Thranduil could not be certain that he heard Layla correctly. His hands began to tighten around her arms.

“Cedric is making you do this, isn’t he?” Thranduil was desperate to hear her acknowledge this, but she never did.

“No…Thranduil. This is my choice,” Layla wore her mask bravely even though she was dying a thousand deaths inside.

Thranduil stared at her with disbelief, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

“It isn’t true, Layla,” he wanted to believe his own words.

Layla could feel pain where his grip had tightened around her arms but that pain felt sweeter than what she was feeling inside heart.

“Forgive me, Thranduil. I was only doing my father’s bidding while he lived. He is dead now and it is best that you forget what happened between us,” she felt dead as she spoke these words.

Slowly, he began releasing her arms. The despair on his face quickly dissipated as his eyes began to darken with anger.

“It was all a lie,” he said softly, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” Layla glanced away for she couldn’t bear to look at his angry eyes—anger born from the pain she had caused him.

His eyes fell on the pendant necklace around her neck, the one he had given her…a small token of their love...she had called it.

“You dare mock me by wearing the necklace that was once a symbol of our love—a false love,” his words were those of a lover who had suffered the worst of betrayal.

He snatched the necklace from her neck, causing the silver chain to cut into her flesh. Layla winced but not from pain. The necklace was very dear to her heart and now he was tearing it away from her.

She suffered in silence while he glared at her with open hatred.

“I never want to see you again,” he spoke through clenched teeth.

Then he turned on his heel and stormed out of the gate to join his army.

Layla watched him helplessly and her despair intensified further when her eyes found Alana sitting elegantly on a black horse beside the Elvenking’s chestnut mount. Clearly, Thranduil had no plans to send the vixen away as he had promised her—especially not now.

Alana smiled at Layla triumphantly when she caught her eyes.

Before Layla could see any further, her brother whisked her away into the castle.

“You did well, little sister,” he laughed aloud before planting a kiss on her temple.

Layla could no longer contain herself as she broke down and began sobbing bitterly.

“Cheer up, sweet sister. Nothing is ever that hopeless. Farlin will make a much better husband—he certainly lacks the Elvenking’s ill temper,” he laughed, and then added, “Why don’t we pay a visit to our dear old Nella?”

******

“My lord, perhaps I can talk to her,” Alana offered innocently.

“Don’t bother!” Thranduil snapped as he turned his back to her and mounted his horse.

“What happened, Father?” Legolas approached him on his mount.

“This was a mistake,” came Thranduil’s reply before he rode his horse ahead of them. He wanted to be alone to reflect on the woman who stole his heart only to tear it apart.

“My heart goes out to your father. She has wounded him deeply,” Alana said to Legolas.

“I tried to warn him,” Legolas said with frustration.

“You are a good son to do so, but some things your father must see for himself,” Alana replied.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Legolas kicked his heels, urging his mount forward.

 _I am right_ , she smiled to herself.

******

Layla watched as the healer tended to Nella’s bruised face and broken arm. Without thinking, her fingers began searching for the diamond pendant against her chest only to come up empty. Fresh tears began streaming down her face when she recalled Thranduil’s angry face as he tore the necklace from her neck.

No matter how hard she tried, there was no good escape plan available to her. Nella was injured and she would never leave without her and then there was the question of allies. She had none in the castle for Drake, her cousin and only ally, was also confined to his quarters and heavily guarded. Cedric had planned everything carefully.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the stone wall in the cell.

“You did a foolish thing, my baby,” Nella said in a sad voice while the healer bandaged her broken arm.

“If I were given another chance, I wouldn’t change a thing,” Layla replied with a sigh.

As bleak as her current state appeared to her, she was not about to give up. There was always a way out.

******

Meanwhile, Cedric was very pleased with himself as he entered his private quarters and ordered his servant, Lenin, to fetch him dinner. He also asked Lenin to fetch Grace as well for he needed something to entertain him.

Grace appeared in his quarters within minutes, always eager to please him.

“Pour me some wine,” he ordered her. He was lying in bed fully clothed.

“At once, my lord,” she replied obediently.

Then she headed towards the table where a large bottle of red wine was breathing. There was no trace of bitterness or sullenness in her voice that hinted to the humiliation he made her suffer earlier.

When she brought him the goblet filled with wine, he gave her another command.

“Drink,” he ordered her.

Grace quickly took a sip of the wine.

Satisfied that the wine was not poisoned, he extended his hand towards her and Grace quickly placed the goblet in his hand.

“Sit down, Grace,” he patted the empty space beside him on the bed as he sat up and began to drink from his wine goblet.

Grace complied and took a seat beside him on the bed.

“You’re quite the little loyal servant, aren't you?” he smiled at her.

“I only live to serve you, my lord,” she replied meekly, careful not to say anything that would anger him.

“I know you do. If I am tough on you it’s only because I want you to be better for I’m preparing you for something greater,” he said as he took a sip of his wine.

He could feel Grace perking up at his comment. _Should I tell her now?_ He mused malevolently.

“My lord is too kind. I want to be better for you. Please tell me what I must do,” she begged him.

Cedric looked into the servants hungry eyes and stared at them for a moment before he replied.

“I do trust you, Grace, and that is why you will hold a special position in my kingdom. When I marry my queen, I will make you her personal servant. You will have the honor of drawing her bath, fetching her meals, and emptying her chamber pot,” he smiled at her while he studied her reaction.

Grace’s eyes widened with disbelief while her lips parted ever so slightly and then closed again as if she were holding her tongue. The tears that slowly began running down her face told him everything he needed to know.

“Do not be sad, my pet. I will continue to summon you to my bed when I require the pleasure of your company,” he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, wiping away her tears.

“I will always serve you as you require, my lord,” she sniffled.

“That’s my sweet Grace. My sister would do well to learn a thing or two from you,” he cupped her chin with his hand and squeezed.

In that moment, Lenin entered his quarters with a large tray containing his evening meal. He set the tray on the table next to the bottle of wine.

“Leave us,” he dismissed the servant.

"My lord," Lenin quietly bowed his head before retreating.

Cedric turned his head towards Grace, giving her an expectant look.

“Right away, my lord,” she replied softly as she rose from the bed.

Grace carefully picked up the tray containing his food plate, napkin, and eating utensils and brought them to him.

She placed the tray on his lap and before he took a bite of his food, he offered her some with his fork. Always the obedient servant, Grace ate what he offered to her.

Cedric began to savor his meal once he was satisfied that it wasn’t poisoned. Grace sat quietly beside him while he talked and ate. She listening to him patiently, knowing that once he was done with his meal, he would require that she service his other appetite.

When he was finished eating, she took away his food tray and placed it back on the table. She returned to his bedside and began to remove her dress before sliding into bed beside him.

Minutes later, Cedric was done with the servant. This time he had not been too rough with her for he was in a very good mood. He smiled to himself as he watched her snoring softly beside him. He rested his head against the feather pillow and closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would be crowned King of Rohan.

It wasn’t long before Cedric fell asleep. Grace turned on her side and stared at him for a minute or two. Convinced that he was asleep, she sat up on the bed and drew out the dinner knife she had hidden below the pillow.

Wrapping both hands tightly around the handle, she plunged the knife deep into his chest.


	13. Chapter 13

In her blind ambition, Grace had played the part of a meek and submissive servant very well but in the end it did not matter for the prince had taken her for a fool. He had cruelly toyed with her affections, humiliating her while dangling false promises before her. Her dream of becoming queen had gone up in smoke. Now her ambition had turned into blind madness. She was left with nothing but a lifetime of servitude and now she was going to return the favor to him. She would rob him of his crown by sending him to an early grave.

Cedric awoke screaming with the knife lodged deep into his chest. Grace had missed his heart and it ended up costing her dearly as he reached for her neck and began strangling her. Try as she might, she could not pry his hands from her neck and with every effort she was only growing weaker until the world around her began to darken.

Having heard the loud commotion coming from Cedric’s quarters, members of the Royal Guard, sworn to protect their king, began pouring through the door. They found Grace lying dead on the floor and Cedric gasping for air with his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife buried into his chest. He was bleeding profusely and his face was deadly pale. His shirt was soaked with blood and the white bed sheets were turning a dark crimson.

“My lord, hold still,” one of the guards placed an arm around him and pried his hand away from the knife blade for fear he would cause himself further harm.

The captain of the Royal Guard began barking orders at the rest of the guards.

“Bring…Layla…” Cedric gasped, his body shaking violently.

******

Layla was sitting in her quarters, her meal untouched. Her stomach reacted violently at the mere thought of food. Her appetite had left completely for her thoughts kept returning to Thranduil’s angry eyes. He hated her now and the very thought gnawed at her heart.

When the Royal Guard stormed into her quarters, she thought her brother was about to inflict a new form of torture upon her. One could not imagine her surprise when she learned that her brother had been mortally wounded by Grace and was now asking for her as he barely clung to life.

“What exactly happened?” Layla was having trouble believing that Grace would be capable of taking anyone’s life.

“We don’t know. Perhaps the servant has gone mad,” was the guard’s response as he escorted Layla to her brother’s quarters.

Layla began to wonder if her brother was going to ask her to forgive him before he died. She didn’t know that she could for she never felt any love for him; he had made certain of that.

When they entered her brother’s quarters, a healer was already tending to his wound. There was a look of hopelessness in the healer’s eyes.

A guard picked up Grace’s body from the floor and carried it out the door. Layla’s eyes followed him with disbelief. Then she slowly approached her brother’s bedside.

The color was gone from Cedric's skin and his breathing had become shallow, but his eyes were very much aware of his sister’s presence.

“Cedric?” Layla called to him softly, not knowing what else to say to the man who tried to destroy her life.

“You…did…this,” he said accusingly.

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Conspired…with…Grace,” he forced the words out of his mouth.

“I did no such thing. You kept me a prisoner in my own quarters and allowed me no contact with the servants,” Layla replied bitterly.

“Hang…her,” Cedric directed his words to one of the guards but no one made any move against Layla.

It was obvious that everyone believed his end was near and Layla would be the next ruler. It was best not to act against her. How quickly things had changed.

Layla couldn’t bear to look at him anymore so she stepped away from his bedside and motioned the healer to her side.

“How much time does he have?” Layla asked her.

“An hour…perhaps less,” the healer replied.

Layla nodded quietly and then dismissed everyone from the room. She pulled up a chair and placed it next to her brother’s bedside. She sat and waited patiently for him to die.

“Hap…py? he struggled with his speech.

“Very. You’re a monster and this is the fate that you deserve,” Layla’s eyes were devoid of emotion and her tone was pure ice. She felt no love for him.

Cedric closed his eyes, no longer having the strength to speak or look at the sister who was about to enjoy his birthright. She robbed him of his mother and now she was taking his crown.

Within minutes, Cedric was dead.

******

Layla was now meeting privately with her cousin Drake in her quarters.

“You cannot do this, Layla,” Drake thought she had lost her mind.

“I don’t want it…I never did. Besides, you’d make a better ruler; you’re kind and even-tempered like my father,” Layla said to him.

“The crown is rightfully yours, Layla,” Drake insisted.

“I never expected to be a ruler or aspired to be one. I’ve always believed my brother would succeed my father, and that was that,” Layla reflected.

“Perhaps this is fate,” Drake said quietly.

“It is. Fate is replacing a terrible ruler with a good one. Take the crown, Drake. I don’t want it,” Layla said adamantly.

“What do you intend do?” Drake asked her.

“I'm going to win back my love,” her eyes grew distant as she yearned for her beloved.

“…and if you don’t succeed?” he asked her.

“Then I will return to Rohan and continue my days as a warrior and your adviser, if you will have me,” Layla dreaded the possibility of failure.

“Of course I’ll you…but I hope it will not come to that. I wish you much luck in your quest,” Drake hugged her for he truly wanted her to be happy.

******

The next morning, Layla was ready to set out for the Woodland Realm, accompanied by a dozen guards.

“Please take good care of Nella while I’m gone,” Layla spoke quietly with Drake at the gates.

“You know I will,” Drake assured her and she didn’t doubt him. He was not Cedric.

“If I succeed I’ll send for her when she’s feeling better,” Layla added. It would be the first time in her life that she had to make do without her old, trusted servant.

“You will succeed,” he smiled at her encouragingly.

“I think he hates me right now,” Layla chuckled nervously.

“It isn’t hate…it’s only anger. Anger cools with time,” Drake reassured her.

“How long will he remain angry with me?” Layla dreaded the answer to that question.

“Patience, cousin,” Drake smiled, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Layla smiled back at him and then replied, “Brandon was a good adviser to my father. Look to him for guidance for he will not lead you astray.”

“I will need all the help I can get,” Drake said in response. He felt a bit overwhelmed by the new responsibilities laid upon him, but he had no intention of turning his back on good counsel.

Layla embraced him tightly before mounting her horse. She rode through the gates and the guards followed closely behind her.

The journey was not a difficult one as the weather was on their side. They stopped once to allow their horses to drink from a small stream and graze on the grassy plains.

They were only halfway there and Layla could already feel her heart pounding against her chest. She hoped their love was strong enough to survive the damage she had caused.

******

Layla knew she had reached the end of her journey when she spotted the bridge that led to the gate of Thranduil’s palace.

“Wait here,” she said to her men, “They’re not expecting me and they may view you as a threat. I’ll signal if they receive me.”

She dismounted and hitched her horse to a post at the foot of the bridge before walking across. There were two guards standing at the gate and she prayed they wouldn’t give her any trouble.

“My lady,” to her relief, one of the guards recognized her. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as difficult as she had expected.

Next, she would explain to Thranduil that she was trying to protect Nella. Surely he would understand.

Before she stated her business, Tauriel emerged from the entrance, a look of surprise on her face.

“My lady!” she gasped.

Tauriel was immediately by her side and ushered her inside.

 _This is a good sign…no one is barring me entry to the palace. Perhaps Thranduil is just as anxious to see me._ Layla suddenly felt hopeful as she turned to her men who were waiting at the foot of the bridge and signaled them to leave.

Turning to Tauriel, she asked, “Where is Thranduil? I wish to speak with him and clear up our misunderstanding.”

Tauriel swallowed hard before responding.

“You shouldn’t have come, my lady,” Tauriel whispered to her.

“What do mean?” Layla felt panic rising within her.

“He doesn’t wish to see you again,” Tauriel replied.

“That’s because he doesn’t know the truth. I just need to explain—”

“He is furious beyond all reason,” Tauriel explained in a hushed tone.

“I do understand—he has every right to be angry but I only want a chance to explain my side of the story. I was protecting someone I love—Nella. My brother would’ve killed her if I told him the truth,” Layla explained desperately.

Tauriel remained silent as she struggled with her own thoughts.

“The King will be very furious with me but I do want to help you,” Tauriel had made her decision.

Layla sighed with relief, “Thank you! What do you have in mind?”

“First, I must hide you in my quarters,” Tauriel continued in a hush tone.

Layla stared at Tauriel questioningly but followed her without protesting.

After following Tauriel through several winding hallways, they made it into her modest quarters.

“Is this necessary?” Layla frowned at her.

“My lady—”

“Call me Layla…I beginning to think you’re my only friend here,” Layla cut in.

“Layla…this _is_ necessary. The King is still very angry and he is not open to reason,” Tauriel insisted.

“What happened to my old guest quarters?” Layla remembered leaving most of her belongings there before she left for Rohan.

“They're no longer available to you…” Tauriel said cautiously.

“What do you mean? My belongings are still in there,” Layla frowned with confusion.

“Thranduil ordered the servants to burn all of your belongings outside the palace,” Tauriel informed her reluctantly.

“All of it?” Layla was stunned by the news.

“Well…except for one gown which Alana saved for herself…she made a few alterations,” Tauriel struggled as she revealed this piece of information.

"What?!" Layla replied with disbelief.

“She now occupies your old quarters and has endeared herself to the King,” Tauriel could not meet Layla’s eyes when she spoke these words.

Layla suddenly felt her heart drop.


	14. Chapter 14

“Why would you go against your king? Why do you want to help me?” Layla had to know Tauriel’s true motivations.

“Because I believe you're good and you're also good for my king…even he doesn’t believe it now,” Tauriel replied with conviction.

“Then I will trust your judgment. Tell me what to do,” Layla was throwing herself at Tauriel’s mercy.

“Please wait here while I speak with him,” Tauriel braced herself for Thranduil’s inevitable wrath.

“Thank you, Tauriel,” Layla was deeply touched by the gesture.

Tauriel nodded silently and, for a brief moment, Layla thought she saw a flicker of hesitation on her part. She exited through the door, leaving Layla alone in her quarters.

Layla sighed softly. Now she would wait and hope for the best.

******

Tauriel found Thranduil standing in the middle of his throne, with his back to her as he spoke with his son. Legolas was the first to spot her and he raised an eyebrow questioningly. She gave a slight nod in the direction of his father.

Legolas quickly whispered something to his father and Thranduil turned to face her. The stern expression on his face caused Tauriel to swallow hard. She hoped he wouldn’t banish her for this.

“What is it, Tauriel?” Thranduil asked her.

“May I speak with you privately, my lord?” she doubted he would oblige her but she had to ask.

“Speak to me here,” Thranduil did not disappoint.

To Tauriel’s annoyance, Legolas made no move to leave for his curiosity was piqued. It was going to be difficult to broach the subject of Layla when the King had an audience. Nevertheless, she had his attention now and she couldn’t turn back.

“This is a very delicate matter—” she began before he cut her off.

“Do not bore me with your blathering and get to the point,” he snapped impatiently.

Tauriel knew that Thranduil was in a foul mood. He had been like this since his return from Rohan. To make matters worse, Legolas had a look on his face that bordered on amusement. She will deal with him later. A few choice words will serve him well.

She decided to give Thranduil the raw truth.

“Princess Layla has arrived,” Tauriel began.

Very rarely did her king betray his own feelings but for the briefest moment, he shed his veil of anger to reveal a glimpse of surprise laced with, dare she say, joy. Then it quickly disappeared.

“Have you forgotten my orders?” his eyes were icy cold.

“No, my lord, I have not. I believe there has been a misunderstanding between you and the princess—”

“I am not interested in listening to more of her lies,” Thranduil cut her off.

“She doesn’t speak lies, my lord. She was—”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on the matter,” he replied angrily.

“Forgive me, my lord,” Tauriel took a more contrite demeanor for his temper was worsening with every word she spoke.

“Where is she?” Thranduil asked with disdain.

“She…she’s in my quarters,” Tauriel braced herself for his wrath.

“Your quarters? You took it upon yourself to bring her into my palace?” Thranduil’s ire was rising.

“Shall I cast her out of the palace?” Tauriel decided to test him for she didn’t believe he was capable of harming Layla.

“No. I promised her father I would protect her and I intend to keep my word,” Thranduil replied tightly. Legolas gave him a sidelong look of surprise.

“I’ll have the servants prepare one of the guest quarters for her,” Tauriel offered.

“You will do no such thing. If she wishes to remain here then she will stay in the servants’ quarters. Keep her out of my sight,” there was a hint of cruelness in his words.

Tauriel nodded quietly, knowing that he was hiding a broken heart behind his cruel words. Thranduil was trying to hurt Layla just as much as she hurt him.

“As you wish, my lord,” she replied quietly before taking her leave.

As she made her way back to her quarters, she heard Legolas calling behind her.

“Tauriel!” he called her name.

Tauriel sighed before stopping to face him, certain that he was about to voice his displeasure with her decision.

“Yes, Legolas?” he replied.

“Why did you go against my father?” he asked in an accusatory tone.

“Why should I bother explaining? You’ve never met a rule you didn’t want to follow!” Tauriel snapped at him.

“Don’t take that tone with me. You’re lucky my father didn’t throw you into the dungeons for disobeying him,” Legolas shot back angrily.

“That’s because I did him a favor. I know he still loves her,” Tauriel smiled smugly.

“Alana is better for him,” Legolas disagreed.

“She’s no different than those foul spiders in the forest,” Tauriel said with disdain.

“You’re jealous of her,” Legolas was now teasing her.

“…and you’re blind!” Tauriel was not amused.

“Why did you do it?” he insisted.

“I felt I was doing the right thing. I believe Layla is innocent. She was merely a victim of her cruel brother and now he’s dead,” she defended her decision.

“Dead? Why didn’t you say this before?” Legolas asked with disbelief.

“Your father was very clear about my blathering,” she snapped at him again and hurried away, leaving him standing in the middle of the hallway.

******

Layla rose from her seat the instant Tauriel walked into the room.

“Did you speak with him?” she asked anxiously.

One look at Tauriel’s face and she knew it had not gone well.

“I did…and as I said earlier, he’s still very angry…” Tauriel began.

“Did you explain to him what happened? Or does he wish to speak with me directly?” Layla was hoping for anything.

“Neither…he wouldn’t listen to me. Well…the good news is that he’s allowing you to remain here…but…” Tauriel did not know how to tell her the rest.

“What is it?” Layla frowned.

“He wants you to stay in the servants’ quarters,” Tauriel revealed to her.

“Has he gone mad?!” Layla cried out with indignation.

“As I stated before…the King is very angry,” Tauriel reminded her.

“I know if I speak with him directly he will listen,” Layla was quite hopeful about this option.

“No, my lady—Layla, he doesn’t wish to see you,” Tauriel admitted reluctantly.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised…perhaps I will wait a day or two before I try,” Layla saw no other choice.

******

Layla examined the small room assigned to her within the servants’ quarters. It had a small bed that filled most of the room, a metal wash basin sat on a wooden table, and a wooden chair was placed beside it. If she wished to bathe, she had to use the common bath where all the servants bathed. Fortunately, Tauriel was kind enough to allow her to use the tub in her own quarters.

 _What next?_ She wondered. _Will Thranduil demand that I assume the duties of a servant?_ No. That is where she would draw the line.

Overcome by restlessness, Layla wandered outside of the servants’ quarters which sat one level above the dungeons and ascended to the next level which contained a small banquet hall and several sitting rooms.

She nodded politely at the guards as she walked down the hall. They acknowledged her with quick nods knowing that she was a personal guest of their captain, and possibly something more to their king.

Layla decided to enter the nearest sitting room on a whim. The room appeared empty until she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

“Layla…what a delightful surprise,” came Alana’s voice from the plush sofa in the room.

She sat barefoot with her legs tucked beneath her, wearing the gown she had claimed for her own. There was a golden bowl filled with grapes on the round table beside her. It was more than obvious that she had made herself at home.

“Alana,” Layla replied, her jaw tightening with resentment.

“I can smell the stench of the servants’ quarters on you,” Alana said quite wickedly before popping a grape into her mouth.

“I believe you’re smelling the foul odor between your legs,” Layla couldn’t resist the cheap insult.

Alana suddenly rose from her seat, her face flushed with anger. Layla was most gratified by her reaction.

“You dare insult me,” Alana said in a dangerous tone.

Layla was unmoved. She could easily overcome this shameless female if it should come to that.

It was then that it dawned on her that Alana was wearing her gown. She had altered the bodice to create a plunging neckline, exposing most of her breasts.

Now it was Layla’s turn to become angry. This beautifully crafted gown had been a birthday gift from her father and now Alana had defiled it.

“That gown was a gift from father,” Layla heard herself saying to the hateful female before her.

“…and now it’s mine. I would thank your father, but he’s dead,” Alana said cruelly.

Layla felt her right hand curling into a fist and she could not stop herself when she sent her fist crushing into Alana’s cheek. Alana fell to the floor, crashing into the small table and sending the bowl and grapes flying across the floor.

In that very instant the Elvenking entered the room. Alana immediately seized the opportunity to play the helpless female as she rushed to Thranduil, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing pitifully against his chest. Thranduil appeared somewhat taken aback by Alana’s physical contact but he made no effort to push her away.

His deep-set blue eyes settled angrily on Layla.


	15. Chapter 15

Looking into those angry blue eyes brought a sharp pain to her heart. Layla loved him deeply and it tore at her heartstrings to know that she was the object of his wrath. It was an unfamiliar pain and it hurt her to the very core. The pain only worsened at the sight of Alana clinging to him like a wounded lover.

 _Why has he allowed Alana to remain in his palace? Has he made her his lover?_ The very thought made Layla sick to her stomach.

Thranduil’s servant, Andir, had followed him into the sitting room, always ready to serve his king where needed.

“She struck me for no reason!” Alana played the victim superbly as she sobbed uncontrollably, her body trembling against the King.

“Andir, take her to her quarters,” Thranduil ordered the servant to take charge of Alana.

Alana reluctantly disengaged herself from the Elvenking, but not before casting a hateful glare in Layla’s direction.

After Andir departed with Alana, Thranduil turned his full attention to Layla. He was still reeling from the pain she had caused him…the lies she spoke to him. As he stood before her, he was reminded of those exquisite nights when she slept peacefully in his arms, her heart beating softly against his chest. There was nothing he would have denied her—he loved her that much. Now the very sight of her only tore further into his wounds.

“You dare strike a guest in my home,” he spoke to her in an icy tone.

“She provoked me with insults,” Layla replied with a calmness that belied the agony in her heart.

“Perhaps you deserved it,” he struck her with harsh words.

“Is that what you believe? Do you not give me the benefit of the doubt?” Layla felt her eyes welling with tears. She was having a difficult time fighting the pain within her.

“Why should I? I gave you every opportunity to tell me the truth and you chose to lie to me,” he said with rising anger.

“My brother would have signaled his men to kill Nella if I revealed the truth to you,” the tears were now running down her face.

“Did you not trust me with the truth?” he took a step closer to her.

“It wasn’t a matter of trust…it was a matter of risk…one I couldn’t afford to take,” Layla tried to explain.

“Then I must question your love for me,” he replied coldly.

“I love you with all my heart, but if you expect me to sacrifice Nella, knowing how much she means to me, then you’re a bigger monster than my brother ever was,” Layla felt anger flowing through her veins.

Without another word, she stormed out of the sitting room for fear that her wrath would get the best of her.

Thranduil could only watch as she exited the room. He wanted to go after her but that would only make him appear weak. He knew that someone as strong as Layla also valued strength in others. Could he have been wrong about her? Was he being extremely shortsighted and selfish?

Layla did not make it to her room without breaking down halfway there. She clung to a pillar as she tried to steady herself while she sobbed. All of this suffering was making her physically ill.

“Layla,” she heard a voice calling to her softly.

Feeling ashamed about her sudden display of emotion, Layla did her best to compose herself as she turned to face Legolas.

“What do you want?” she wasn’t too pleased to see him. Legolas had never been a big supporter of her relationship with his father.

“Why do you cry? Are you hurt?” he placed a gentle hand on her arm.

“Do not concern yourself with me! I leave for Rohan in the morning,” she broke away from him abruptly and hurried to her room.

“Layla!” he called after her, but she ignored him.

******

Having heard from Legolas about Layla’s sudden breakdown, Tauriel immediately paid her a visit in her room.

“He saw you!” Tauriel was surprised to learn the news of Layla’s encounter with Thranduil. Somehow, she knew the Elvenking would make her pay for this. His instructions had been clear— _keep her out of my sight_.

“She clung to him the way one clings to a lover,” Layla was in bed shedding bitter tears over the entire incident.

“They are not lovers,” Tauriel assured her.

“How could you possibly know? She probably steals into his quarters in the late hours of the night,” Layla continued to weep.

“I don’t believe it, Layla. He still loves you,” Tauriel comforted her.

“I don’t feel loved,” Layla said between tears.

“You must rest, Layla, or you’re going to fall ill,” Tauriel urged her.

“How can I sleep when I cannot stop crying? Why do I cry so much?” she asked helplessly, feeling like an utter weakling.

“It’s your broken heart. Perhaps a sleeping tonic will ease your pain,” Tauriel tried to soothe her.

“Give me the strongest tonic you have,” she welcomed the idea of numbing herself—anything to stop this torturous pain in her heart.

******

Thranduil was considering riding his mount to clear his head when his son stopped him at the gate.

“Layla is not well, Father,” Legolas informed his father at Tauriel’s urging.

Thranduil turned to his son with an expression of concern on his face. A pang of guilt seized him as he was reminded of his angry exchange with Layla in the sitting room.

“Is she hurt?” he asked his son.

“Not physically…but she is very distraught. Tauriel fears for her health. What did you say to her?” Legolas asked.

“Why must you assume that it was something I said?” Thranduil was clearly annoyed by his son’s comment.

“I heard your voice from the far end of the hall,” Legolas replied with a smugness that almost rivaled his father’s.

“Layla isn’t your concern,” Thranduil said in an icy tone.

“I was wrong about her, Father…and so are you,” Legolas met his father’s gaze steadily.

Thranduil was about to say a few choice words to his son when something caught his eye at the end of the bridge. It was a figure clad in white.

“Are we expecting anyone?” he asked his son.

“No,” Legolas replied as he tried to make out the person approaching them.

The individual clad in white stopped a few feet away from them.

“Lady Galadriel…I don’t believe I was expecting you,” Thranduil said coolly.

Galadriel assessed Thranduil with her knowing eyes as a small smile played across her lips.

“It seems I’ve arrived not a moment too soon,” she replied.


	16. Chapter 16

Lady Galadriel did not wait for an invitation from the Elvenking as she walked through the gate, her white gown trailing behind her.

No one would dare to stop her. She was very powerful and well-respected by all.

Thranduil watched her suspiciously, knowing that he wouldn’t be too pleased with whatever she was planning to say to him.

“Leave us,” Thranduil said to his son who was lingering beside him.

Before departing, Legolas alerted his father to another matter.

“Layla intends to leave for Rohan in the morning,” Legolas informed him.

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, “She will do no such thing. See that the guards keep a watchful eye at the gate.”

Legolas gave him a quick nodded before walking away.

Galadriel was smiling that knowing smile of hers when he turned to face her, he noted with irritation.

In the end, Thranduil decided to lead Galadriel to the sitting room in his private quarters, away from anyone who would listen to their conversation.

Once they were alone in his quarters, the two remained standing, neither one wanting to take a seat. The air was filled with tension.

“This will not do, Thranduil,” Galadriel said softly.

“Whatever do you mean?” Thranduil was preparing to defend the choices he made in his kingdom.

“You have not been a very good host to our princess,” she met his hard gaze with unyielding eyes. She was not easily intimidated.

“Would you care to elaborate?” he wanted to hear just how much she knew.

“Layla is of noble birth but you have confined her to the servants’ quarters and now you’re determined to keep her locked in your palace like a prisoner. Isn’t that the very definition of a terrible host?” Galadriel released a soft chuckle.

“I will not suffer your insults in my own palace,” Thranduil’s eyes darkened as he glared at her.

“I do not speak insults. I’m merely stating my observations. Layla is just as much my charge as she is yours and I will do my part to keep her safe,” Galadriel took a step away from him as she gazed around the room.

“I only seek to do the same,” he said defensively.

“You have a peculiar way of demonstrating this. I can sense her great pain from where I’m standing,” she returned her gaze to him.

“It wasn’t my intention to cause her pain,” Thranduil replied tightly.

“Nevertheless, you have. You are one of the oldest living elves in Middle-earth, yet you behave like one of the youngest—quick to anger and slow to reason,” Galadriel’s words held no malice; she only intended to enlighten the Elvenking.

For once, Thranduil contained his anger, not wanting to give credence to Galadriel’s words.

“Why did you come here?” he asked her calmly, but he was seething inside.

“I’m taking her with me. She will have better accommodations in my home and she will also be treated with the kindness that she deserves,” Galadriel said steadily, her face unsmiling.

Thranduil was caught off guard by her reply.

“I won’t allow it!” he shot back, no longer masking his anger. Layla belonged to him and no one was taking her away from him.

Ignoring the Elvenking’s outburst, Galadriel continued, “Our princess is quite special: she has the gift of healing and the gift of foresight. Lord Elrond can help her develop one of those gifts and I can help her develop the other. She is still quite young and will require much training and a great deal of nurturing. Let’s face it Thranduil, you are not the nurturing type.”

“You presume too much,” Thranduil had heard enough of her lecturing. If she were anyone else, he would have tossed her out of his quarters by now.

Sensing that the Elvenking's patience was growing thin, Galadriel decided to explore a different direction.

“Why don’t you go to her and prove me wrong? If you should succeed, she will remain with you,” Galadriel smiled at him pleasantly.

Thranduil was up to the challenge but even he had his own doubts. What if Layla rejected him? She was just as proud and stubborn as he—even her temper rivaled his own.

It did not matter for he had to win her back.

******

Alana was in her quarters powdering her face in an effort to conceal the bruise on her cheek. She was wearing a white silk sleeping gown trimmed with expensive lace. The fabric was quite sheer and clung to her skin—designed for seduction.

Now that she had played the role of the victim to perfection, she was certain that she had also earned Thranduil’s sympathy. Layla would not be remaining here much longer—not after she climbed into bed with the Elvenking and spend an unforgettable night with him. By morning, he will have forgotten all about the hateful princess.

She carefully loosened the lacing on the front of her gown—never one to shy away from flaunting her assets. The guards in the palace had a special name for her— _the peddling tart_.

After she finished brushing her hair and dabbing more perfume on her body, she was ready to make her mark.

Alana smiled wickedly as she stepped out of her quarters, swaying her hips seductively.

******

“How are you feeling, Layla?” Tauriel had returned to check on her once again.

“Better…” Layla was already feeling the effects of the tonic.

“Good…rest now. I’ll stop by later,” Tauriel was pleased to see that Layla had stopped crying.

Tauriel exited the room and closed the door behind her. She leaned against the door as she heaved a sigh of relief. There were days when she secretly wanted to wring her King’s neck and today was one of those days.

The potent tonic began to take effect as Layla fell into a dreamless sleep that lasted a few hours.

When she awoke, her head was in a fog and she couldn’t remember where she was. She felt Tauriel sitting beside her smoothing back her hair. She was about to ask her for the time when she noticed the golden hair. It wasn’t Tauriel.

As she fought through the fog in her head, she forced herself to focus on the person sitting beside her.

“Layla,” he said her name softly, so as not to disturb her.

“Go away!” Layla muttered as she turned on her side, her back to him.

“You don’t mean that, love,” he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the cheek.


	17. Chapter 17

Alana was slowly making her way to the Elvenking’s quarters. Just about now, Andir would be serving the King his wine before retiring for the night. She predicted that Thranduil would be subdued and desirous of some female companionship. Alana had watched and studied him well from afar. All of her scheming culminated in this precious moment. He would not turn her away; no one ever did.

It was with great confidence that Alana proceeded forward, until the voice behind her caused her to stop abruptly and then turn.

“Lady Galadriel,” she gasped with surprise.

“You have been very busy, Alana,” Galadriel approached her slowly .

Suddenly, Alana felt self-conscious about her sleeping gown which left very little to the imagination.

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I thought walking would clear my head,” she hoped Galadriel would believe her lie.

“In the direction of Thranduil’s quarters?” Galadriel asked her calmly.

“It's only a coincidence, my lady,” Alana was beginning to feel uneasy.

“Is it a coincidence that you happen to be so scantily clad?” Galadriel’s eyes hardened with these words.

“Perhaps you have a point, my lady. I shall return to my quarters immediately. Please excuse me,” Alana began to walk away with hurried steps.

Before she went any further, Galadriel’s hand grabbed her arm and stopped her with a vice-like grip. Alana became filled with dread when she saw Galadriel’s light blue eyes transforming into two black pools.

“You have been scheming against the princess. I shall have a word with your mother when I return home, but first I must deal with you,” Galadriel weighed her with a dark stare.

Alana cried out when a bright light flashed before her eyes, blinding her momentarily. When she regained her sight, Galadriel was nowhere to be found but something was very strange...her surroundings. She was no longer in the hallway. She was inside a small dungeon cell. Alana tried to open the cell door and discovered that it was locked.

Seized with fear, she began screaming for help but was met with complete silence. There was no one nearby—no guards…no prisoners. For the first time in her life, she was truly afraid.

Leaning against the cell door, she slid down to the floor and began to sob.

******

“Why did you bring me here?” it was a few moments before Layla realized that she was no longer in the servants' quarters. These were the Elvenking's quarters.

“You belong here with me,” he replied calmly.

“Is that so? Is your guilt eating at you?” she asked resentfully.

“Perhaps…” he replied softly.

“How could you be so cruel? Confining me to the servants’ quarters?” Layla raised herself into a sitting position. The effects of the tonic were quickly waning. She suspected it was his healing touch.

“Forgive me, Layla. At the time, it truly pained me to look at your face,” Thranduil admitted to her.

“So you chose to humiliate me…is that love?” Layla challenged him.

“I was very misguided…but my love for you is true. Do not ever doubt that,” Thranduil hoped he hadn’t lost her forever.

“What about that shameless whore? Did you bed her?” Layla searched his eyes, desperate for the truth. Her jealousy was eating her inside.

“No. Alana means nothing to me. I will send her away in the morning,” Thranduil assured her.

“Do it now!” Layla said angrily.

“Be reasonable, Layla. It’s the middle of the night, too perilous a journey,” he tried to reason with her.

“I don’t care. She should have been gone long ago,” she gave him an accusatory glare.

“She leaves at the break of dawn. You have my word,” he promised her.

“See that she does,” Layla could not shake off her anger; she had endured enough suffering and humiliation to last her a lifetime.

“Will you ever forgive me?” Thranduil asked her softly. He was beginning to have his doubts.

“Perhaps someday I will,” her expression softened a bit.

“Perhaps today,” he smiled at her as he kissed her brow.

“Perhaps,” she smiled thinly, and then added, “Don’t think I will give in to you so easily.”

“Will you at least keep me company tonight? I’ve missed you terribly,” he said softly as he traced her face with his fingertips.

“I don’t mind sleeping in a comfortable bed…but that is all you will get from me tonight,” she replied smugly.

“I will not ask for more than you can give me,” he lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck.

Layla closed her eyes as shivers ran down her spine. She had nearly forgotten how much she loved his touch and his kisses.

“What are you doing?” she sounded flustered.

“Shall I stop?” Thranduil whispered as he brushed his lips against her neck.

Layla was having trouble forming a response.

“We shouldn’t,” she finally gasped, not knowing why.

“Why not, Layla? Kissing you is my favorite pastime.” He began nibbling at the hollow of her neck.

She had no response for him except for a feeble protest which he chose to ignore.

Layla did not stop him when she felt his hand caressing her breasts or when he began to remove her sleeping gown. She felt completely powerless against him. Thranduil always had a way of getting what he wanted.

He claimed her mouth with his in a long, passionate kiss that took her breath away. There was an element of possessiveness in his kisses that lured her into submission. It had been her intention not to give in too easily, but thus far she had failed miserably by allowing him complete control. She could feel his hand reaching down to her inner thigh while he kissed her. Her body trembled beneath his when he began parting her sex.

She managed to break away from his kiss to catch her breath, but he quickly reclaimed her mouth with his own as his fingers continued to pleasure her. She squirmed at his touch as a small cry escaped from her lips. It wasn’t long before she reached her climax. Her heart was beating furiously and her body was shaking as she gasped for air.

She was barely aware of him undressing as she tried to regain control of her body. Her breathing began to slow and her body had stopped shaking. When Thranduil rejoined her, he looked into her eyes and gently caressed her face.

“Tomorrow I will make you my wife,” it was a fact, not a request.

It was his way of staking his claim before the Gondorians came knocking at his gate, if they dared.

Before Layla could respond, he shifted his large, muscular body over hers. His was the perfect body of a warrior and she loved that he belonged to her. As Thranduil’s long golden hair caressed her skin, she felt his arousal brush across her thigh as he prepared to enter her. His skin felt hot against her own and his eyes spoke his great desire for her. She wanted nothing more than to give herself to his love, for when Thranduil loved, he loved completely. It was all or nothing with him.

As Layla began kissing his chest, she felt him grab her wrists and pinned them to the bed. His fiery eyes bore into hers as he entered her slowly, careful not to hurt her. Her cry was a delightful mix of pleasure and pain. When he tried to kiss her, she sunk her teeth into his lower lip and bit hard causing him to hiss with a mix of surprise and pain. Layla suppressed a soft chuckle at his reaction.

“Do you like it rough, my love?” Thranduil asked her with a playful smirk.

“Only when I’m doing the hurting,” Layla whispered back with a wicked smile.

“We shall see about that,” he lowered his head to nibble at her neck, thrusting his full length inside her.

Layla gave a small yelp of pain, but she had to admit it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. They remained joined as their bodies moved into a sensuous rhythm that brought them deeper into sweet ecstasy. Their release was even sweeter as they lay spent in each other’s arms, grateful to be with one another again.

******

It was early morning when Layla awoke. She was very disappointed to find the empty space beside her. _Where could he have gone?_ She wondered.

Layla felt compelled to leave the bed as her curiosity got the better of her. There was a silk robe draped on the sofa and she wasted no time grabbing it and slipping into it. She tied a belt around her waist and hurried out the door.

She almost bumped into Andir who was on his way in carrying a breakfast tray.

“My lady!” he was startled by her sudden appearance.

“Forgive me, Andir. I was on my way out,” she apologized.

“Won’t you care for some breakfast?” he asked.

“Not this minute. Where is Thranduil?” she asked.

“He is at the gate, my lady,” Andir informed her.

Suddenly, Layla remembered Thranduil’s promise to send Alana away this morning.

“Thank you, Andir,” she hurried off.

When Layla reached the front gate, she found Thranduil there with someone she did not recognize. She had long, golden hair and wore a white flowing gown. _Thranduil had never mentioned her,_ was her immediate thought.

The two of them turned to face her, as if sensing her presence together.

“This is Galadriel, Lady of Lórien,” Thranduil introduced her.

“How do you do?” Layla greeted her.

“Princess Layla, I’ve heard so much about you. I do hope you will join me for lunch today,” Galadriel smiled at her warmly.

“It will be my pleasure,” Layla smiled pleasantly, although confused.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Galadriel said before walking away and leaving them alone.

Layla turned to Thranduil with a puzzled look on her face, “Who is she?”

“It would be best if Galadriel explained this to you herself,” Thranduil smiled at her as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her.

“You left me alone,” Layla chided him playfully.

“I had to attend to a very important matter this morning,” he raised an eyebrow at her then turned his head towards the end of the bridge. Layla followed his gaze.

Alana was mounting a horse along with a handful of guards. A night alone in a dungeon cell had been a very humbling experience for her. She glanced back at the gate one last time and found Layla wrapped in Thranduil’s arms. She looked away feeling defeated as the guards began to lead her home.

“You did well, my lord,” Layla seemed very pleased.

“I’m glad my princess is pleased, but you will not be my princess for long,” he kissed her brow lightly.

“You meant it?” she looked at him with surprise.

“Tonight beneath the stars we say our vows. We shall host a wedding feast in the near future,” he smiled at her.

Layla loved the idea of marrying her beloved beneath the stars. She was reminded of the first time they made love. It had been in the forest, right beneath the stars.

“A message from Rohan for my lady,” Andir spoke behind them.

Layla stiffened in Thranduil’s arms. The last time she received a message from Rohan it bore ill news of her father. _Could it be Nella this time?_ She shivered at the very thought.

Sensing her discomfort, Thranduil took the parchment from Andir. The servant retreated immediately to give them some privacy.

“This may be important, Layla,” he said calmly as he handed her the parchment.

She couldn’t run the other way every time she received news from Rohan. Her hands trembled slightly as she broke the seal. As she began reading the message her face softened a bit. When she was finished, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Good news, I hope,” Thranduil said to her.

“It’s my cousin Drake. He’s inquires after my well-being. He also tells me that Nella is feeling much better. I can send for her soon,” her face brightened at the prospect.

“I would gladly welcome Nella to our home. She is the only one who can tame my fiery temptress,” he teased her.

“You didn’t need her help last night,” she chuckled softly.

“You gave in too easily,” he smirked at her.

“You used trickery,” Layla accused him playfully.

“You never once asked me to stop,” Thranduil smiled at her smugly.

“You’re right…I didn’t,” she closed her eyes and indulged in memories of their lovemaking.

“When shall we schedule our wedding feast?” Thranduil asked her.

“We can schedule a date after Nella’s arrival. She would love to help with the planning,” Layla couldn’t wait to see her beloved servant.

“As you wish, my love. I only want you to be happy,” he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“I already am. I’m here with you,” she reached up and kissed his lips tenderly.


	18. Part Two

_Two months later._

“We need to get you dressed, my baby! The feast begins in an hour!” Nella urged her.

Nella was already dressed in a simple, yet elegant midnight blue gown.

Layla looked up sleepily from the bed and smiled at the old servant.

“You look fetching…” she said in a sleepy voice.

“Have you been drinking?!” Nella placed her hands on her wide hips and gave her a very stern look.

“Of course not, Nellie! That was a compliment!” Layla sat up on the bed, fully awake now.

“Thranduil will be furious if you keep him waiting,” Nella helped her out of bed.

“My darling will understand,” Layla smiled dreamily.

“Don’t press your luck, child,” Nella cautioned her.

Only two hours ago, Nella had helped her into her gown, but the feast planning frenzy of the past few days had finally caught up with Layla. Feeling exhausted and desiring more sleep, she removed the gown herself and climbed into bed with just her undergarment shift.

“Has Drake arrived yet?” Layla asked about her cousin as Nella helped her into the white shimmering gown, once again.

“Not yet, baby. Don’t you worry…he will come. Drake wouldn’t miss your wedding feast for the world,” Nella assured her as she began lacing her gown.

“I wished he had arrived yesterday,” Layla sighed.

“Drake is a new king and can’t afford too much time away from his kingdom,” Nella reminded her.

Layla made a face at her. Nella was always so practical about everything.

“You keep making those monkey faces and your face will stay that way forever,” Nella chided the young queen as she examined the gown on her.

Layla chuckled softly, and then it occurred to her that Nella was all alone.

“Where’s Irina? She should be here helping you,” Layla had not seen the servant all day.

“She’s helping the other servants with the wedding guests. There so many and the servants are under a lot of strain,” Nella began brushing her hair.

“Most of them will be gone by the morning. Not to worry, I’m not sharing you with anyone,” Layla had been adamant about this with her husband.

As Nella began searching for a hair comb on the vanity dresser, she discovered the uneaten food on the tray she left on the table earlier.

“Good heavens! You haven't even touched your food!” Nella was beside herself.

“I was too tired to eat. I’ll eat at the feast,” Layla replied dismissively. _Nella worries too much_ , she thought.

“Make sure you eat before you drink any wine. I mean it Layla. It’s very strong wine,” Nella warned her.

“Yes-yes-yes!” Layla sighed, thinking that she needed a drink right now.

 _Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?_   She thought. Thranduil will be by her side all night.

“Behave yourself, little one!” Nella scolded her.

Layla chuckled softly. It amused her that Nella still saw her as a child even though she was now married and held the title of queen.

“Sit, my child,” Nella indicated the cushioned stool before the vanity dresser.

“Oh dear, I almost forgot,” Layla gasped.

Nella carefully placed the thin silver band adorned with diamond stars on Layla’s head to match the one Thranduil was wearing.

“Now you’re perfect!” Nella clasped her hands with delight.

With over 300 outside guests plus the denizens of the Woodland Realm, it was going to be a great wedding feast. They had married privately two months ago, but today would be a day to be shared with family and friends.

Layla was escorted to the largest banquet hall by Tauriel, the captain of the guard. Nella followed closely behind them.

“Where is Thranduil? Layla asked as her eyes searched the grand hall from the entryway. Many of the guests were beginning to take notice of her—she was after the queen.

“He won’t be long,” Tauriel smiled at her reassuringly.

Layla sensed that something was amiss for Tauriel appeared to be making too great of an effort to keep her calm. It annoyed her that everyone around her seemed to want to coddle her. Things were very different at Rohan. No one doubted that she could fend for herself; she was after all their warrior princess.

“Very well. I'll wait for him in one of the sitting rooms,” Layla did not feel like being surrounded by a sea of strangers who no doubt were very curious about her.

The second Tauriel departed, Layla followed her, trying to remain unnoticed.

She could only guess that the captain of the guard was headed for the gate. Her guess proved to be correct when she saw her join Thranduil and Legolas who were already standing just outside the gate. They were talking to someone, perhaps a guest, who had just arrived.

“My lady, is everything all right?” Andir's voice startled her from behind.

“Everything is fine. I’m just waiting for my husband,” she replied. It still felt strange to say that word— _husband_.

Andir retreated after sensing that she didn’t need his help.

As Layla looked closely at the gate, she immediately recognized the guest. It was her cousin Drake, the new King of Rohan. She immediately rushed to him with excitement. She had not seen Drake since the day she left Rohan.

When Drake caught sight of her, he smiled at her broadly and caught her in a warm embrace.

While Layla was hugging her cousin, she did not notice the look of concern in Thranduil’s eyes. He turned to his son and whispered a command and then returned his attention to his wife.

“I’m so glad you could make it. Did you have a rough journey?” she asked, deeply concerned for her only living relative.

A frowned crossed Layla’s face as she took in Drake’s disheveled appearance. There was a large dark stain on the sleeve of his left arm that closely resembled blood.

“No rougher than usual,” he laughed, and then added, “I must freshen up if I hope to be presentable for your wedding feast.”

Servants approached the new King of Rohan to escort him to his assigned guest quarters. Layla stared after him, feeling somewhat unsettled by what she saw.

Thranduil gave Legolas a quick nod before joining his wife and leading her away.

“You look lovely,” he smiled at her.

“Is something the matter?” Layla asked with a certain amount of unease.

“All is well, darling. Let’s proceed to the banquet hall,” he placed a hand on the small of her back and began leading her away.

Layla was not convinced but she decided not to press the issue on this joyous occasion.

Her husband looked very handsome in his silvery tunic and crimson cloak. She reminded herself once again that she was very lucky to be his wife and queen. No other male had ever made her feel so loved.

When they entered the banquet hall together, all eyes were upon them, absorbing their otherworldly beauty. The Elvenking and his queen were a sight to behold.

Layla felt a bit unnerved at the large crowd of strangers. She was accustomed to the more subdued atmosphere at the castle in Rohan. Nevertheless, she maintained her poise and smiled warmly at the crowd.

As if sensing her discomfort, Thranduil gave her hand a light squeeze and smiled at her reassuringly. She was immediately warmed by the gesture as she returned his smile.

Layla followed him to the empty table on top of a wooden platform containing four place settings. She did her best not to trip on her gown as she climbed the two steps on the side of the platform. Layla and Thranduil seated themselves in the two middle seats. Drake would occupy the seat to her left and Legolas would seat to his father’s right.

There was loud cheering and clapping from the large crowd which had already had their substantial fill of Dorwinion wine.

Two servants began pouring wine into their goblets. One of the servants informed them that their meal would be brought to them shortly.

Thranduil and Layla shared a toast with the crowd. Layla took a big gulp from her wine, ignoring Nella’s warning.

While putting down her wine goblet, her eyes fell on a male seated at one of the tables in the center of the hall. His piercing blue eyes added to his commanding presence. He appeared to be studying her with interest.

Layla leaned into Thranduil and inquired about him.

Thranduil’s expression hardened when his eyes spotted the male.

“He is the King of Erebor…also known as Thorin Oakenshield."


	19. Chapter 19

Layla stared back at the King of Erebor with fascination. She had never seen a dwarf before and he was nothing like what she had imagined. He rewarded her with a smile before turning his attention to the old dwarf sitting beside him.

“He’s handsome,” Layla blurted out.

Thranduil turned to face her, his brow knitted and his lips parted slightly with disbelief.

Layla immediately realized her error and tried to correct it.

“What I meant…My brother once described dwarves to me as short and ugly,” she tried to explain.

“Your brother was right. They are short and ugly,” Thranduil barely concealed his anger.

Thranduil turned his eyes to the dwarves and glared at Thorin. He didn’t like the way Thorin smiled at his wife knowing that he was watching him. The dwarf-king was quite bold and smug.

“If you dislike him so much, why did you invite him to our wedding feast?” Layla was perplexed by Thranduil’s behavior.

“It was an act of goodwill on my part. Besides, I have important business to discuss with Thorin,” Thranduil replied, his eyes never leaving the dwarf-king.

“Business? At our wedding feast?” Layla was somewhat indignant.

“After the feast…tomorrow,” he replied.

“How long will he be staying?” Layla asked curiously.

“What does it matter to you?!” Thranduil lashed out at her.

“Why are you behaving this way?” Layla was becoming irritated by her husband’s behavior.

“You will stay away from him,” his words were a command.

Layla bristled at his command giving him a hard stare.

“I’m not your servant. You will not prohibit me from speaking to anyone,” Layla defended her rights.

“I am your king and you will obey me,” he was inflamed by her stubbornness.

“Not if I leave you,” she shot back defiantly.

“What did you say?” his eyes narrowed with anger.

Meanwhile, several of the guests sitting nearby were beginning to notice that something was amiss with the Elvenking and his queen.

It was at that very moment that Legolas arrived and took his seat beside his father. He gave Layla a questioning look and she shook her head and looked away.

Thranduil turned to his son and began talking quietly to him. Layla took the opportunity to drown herself in more wine. She needed something to lighten her spirit for she was very furious with her husband right now.

She felt Thorin’s eyes on her again and she met his gaze and smiled at him, an act of defiance on her part.

Many of the guests were leaving their tables and heading to the other end of the hall reserved for dancing. Layla stared longingly, wishing she could join them.

To her relief, Drake had just arrived and quickly took the seat to her left. His presence immediately lifted her mood.

Layla leaned towards him and kissed his cheek.

“I missed you, Drake,” she said with affection.

“I missed you, too. It’s not the same without you,” Drake admitted with a smile.

“Why don’t we join the others on the dance floor?” she asked him excitedly.

“Sounds like fun but I cannot steal you away without your new husband’s consent,” he chuckled.

“Yes…there’s that,” she sighed.

She watched as Drake left his seat and stepped over to Thranduil to make his request. Thranduil nodded at Drake and then his eyes met Layla’s, indicating silently that there was still unfinished business between them.

Layla took a last sip from her wine goblet before joining Drake on the dance floor.

“Tell me how you’re managing as new king?” she grabbed his arm as she followed him to the dance floor.

She felt Drake stiffening at her touch as if he were in pain.

“Drake? Are you hurt?” she asked worriedly.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, not wanting to discuss it.

“Tell me what happened…please,” she begged him.

“My men and I were attacked by orcs on the way here,” he replied reluctantly as they took the dance floor and began to dance to light music.

Layla had had her suspicions but now that he confirmed them it added further to her fears. The orcs have grown bolder after the death of her father and brother. Now they were determined to kill the new ruling king of Rohan.

“Is this what you were discussing with Thranduil at the gate?” she asked, remembering how her husband had dismissed her concern.

“Yes. He decided to take some precautions by strengthening the kingdom’s borders with additional soldiers,” Drake revealed to her.

“I see,” she noted, wondering why her husband would keep something like this from her.

Suddenly, her stomach was cramping with pain and the hall appeared to be spinning.

“Layla, are you all right?” she felt Drake placing a supporting arm around her.

The wine was making her feel very dizzy. She wished she hadn’t ignored Nella’s warning for now she was paying for it.

“I need to sit,” she said breathlessly.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Drake said as he began leading her back to their table.

She was a bit unsteady on her feet but Drake was careful not to let her trip or fall.

When they returned to the table, Layla discovered that Thranduil was gone. Legolas was standing beside his own seat, listening to Tauriel as she gave him a report. They both turned their attention to Layla when they saw Drake helping her into her seat. Legolas was quickly by her side as Tauriel departed to tend to her duty as captain of the guard.

“Are you all right, Layla?” he asked, his face filled with concern.

“I'm fine…too much wine. Where’s your father?” she asked.

“He is speaking with the Lord Elrond,” Legolas indicated to the southwest corner of the hall.

Layla saw the back of Thranduil’s golden head. He wasn’t difficult to find; he was probably the tallest male there. Suddenly, she felt a pang of guilt about the way she spoke to him earlier. This was supposed to be a joyous occasion for them. Why couldn’t she hold her tongue for just this night?

“I know about the orc attack on my cousin,” she said to Legolas.

Legolas made no effort to deny it.

“Yes. My father is worried that they are targeting the last surviving heirs of your father. He gave an order for additional reinforcements on our borders,” Legolas explained.

This only made her feel worse. Her husband was trying to protect her from vile orcs and she had treated him like he was the enemy. Her eyes drifted towards her husband who was still in deep conversation with Elrond.

“They will never leave us alone,” Layla said softly.

“Don’t worry, Layla. You are safe here,” Legolas placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

Truth be told, her father had predicted a similar scenario, prompting him to form an alliance with the Elvenking to keep her safe. But where did that leave her cousin Drake? Could he withstand any further attacks to the kingdom? Had Gondor turned its back to Rohan because she refused to marry their crown prince? The very thought was disheartening.

The hours of feasting came to pass as most of the inebriated individuals began taking to their guest quarters. Her husband was nowhere to be found and Legolas had no idea where his father could have gone.

Drake excused himself before retiring to his guest quarters. He was weary from the journey and the unexpected attack from the orcs.

Nella had already retired to her room. Several times she had given her looks of disapproval which Layla chose to ignore. Her mind was preoccupied with more important matters right now.

A guard led her to the quarters that she now shared with Thranduil. She bid him goodnight before retiring inside.

Layla saw no sign of Thranduil as she crossed the sitting room to enter their bedroom. She felt a bit annoyed as she removed the silver band from her head and tossed it on the vanity dresser.

“You should handle that with more care,” she heard Thranduil’s voice.

Thranduil was sitting on an arm chair in the corner of the bedroom, sipping from his wine goblet. His crimson cloak was disregarded carelessly on the floor, right beside the arm chair. His fiery eyes were fixed her on her.

“You should have made your presence known,” Layla did not like being startled.

“I do as I please in my own quarters,” Thranduil slowly rose from his seat after placing his wine goblet on the small table beside him.

He walked towards her with measured steps, making Layla think that he was trying to unnerve her. She turned away and began heading for the wardrobe. Only she didn’t get too far when she felt his hand grip her arm. Then he wrapped his arms around her, restraining her against his body.

“Let me go! You’re drunk!” she struggled against him.

“I think you have that backwards,” he replied with a hint of a smile as he pressed her against the large wooden table where the servants often left their meal trays.

She felt his hand reaching towards her back where he began grabbing a fistful of her gown’s fabric.

“No! Not this gown!” she protested.

“You defied me today,” he said softly, before tearing the fabric at the seams.

“I am not your servant,” she replied with defiance in her eyes.

Thranduil grabbed her hair forcing her to tilt her head back. He pried her mouth open with his own and kissed her fiercely. Layla stopped fighting him for she was becoming aroused by his kiss. She didn’t protest when he tore off the rest of her gown, including her shift, from her body.

When he released her from his ardent kiss, he turned her so she was facing the wooden table. She could feel his arousal behind her. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back again as he leaned closed to her neck.

“You are mine and I’ll not have you flirt with other males,” he whispered into her ear.

Layla didn’t believe she had flirted with anyone but she wasn’t about to say so. Let him believe what he wanted. She just wanted him inside of her.

He forced her to lean forward against the table. Layla planted the palms of her hands on the table for support. He placed a hand on either side of her hips and held her firmly.

Within seconds she felt Thranduil entering her and stretching her like he never had before. Layla gasped from the sudden flash of pain but quickly recovered. As he thrust hard into her, Layla thought she would make it a point to tell the servants to leave the food trays in the sitting room from now on.

Layla felt him climaxing against her, but she knew he wasn’t finished with her as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bed.

******

Layla awoke the next morning with a pounding in her head. Her body ached all over, particularly her lower half. She found herself nestled against Thranduil’s bare chest, his arms wrapped around her.

“Did you mean it, Layla? What you said last night…while we made love,” Thranduil ask her softly.

Clearly, he knew she was awake. No sense in pretending she was still asleep. Last night was a big blur. Beyond their lovemaking against the former food table, she couldn’t remember anything else. What could she had possibly said to him? Whatever it was it couldn’t be so terrible. Perhaps she professed her deep love for him or something of that nature.

“I did,” she lied, thinking there was no harm in it.

She felt his arms tightening around her as he kissed the top of her head.

“I would love nothing more than to have a child with you,” Thranduil was elated by the thought.

Layla felt her heart stop. She didn’t want any children.

Not yet...


	20. Chapter 20

“So would I…but I’d prefer to wait a little longer,” Layla said gently.

“Last night you said ‘let’s make a child now,’ or have you forgotten?” Thranduil asked her.

She could feel his body tensing. This was not going too well.

“Forgive me, my love. I had too much to drink last night and perhaps my words got away from me,” she finally admitted her folly.

“I see,” he replied tersely.

“I meant what I said…but first, I would like to spend more time with you…just the two of us,” she explained.

“All right. When the time comes, you will let me know,” he said in a subdued voice.

“I promise I will,” she smiled at him.

He kissed her brow and then began to rise from bed.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Layla feared she had driven him away.

“I have business to attend to with Thorin. It cannot wait,” he said tightly.

“What is this business?” she asked curiously.

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it when I’m done,” was his reply.

Layla wished she could keep him in bed a little longer but it was not to be. She never tired of gazing at his majestic beauty.

******

She bid farewell to her cousin at the gate that morning. Their parting was bittersweet for there was no telling how soon they would see each other again.

“Be safe, Drake,” she said to her cousin after they had embraced.

“I will. Promise me you will continue to write,” he said to her.

“I promise. You must also think about finding yourself a wife to further our line,” Layla said with a smirk.

“Someday I will. Times are trying right now. I must focus on my kingly duties,” Drake replied, ever the honorable and dutiful man.

“Very well. Please be careful. It’s a perilous journey to Rohan,” Layla cautioned him.

“Not to worry. Your husband was generous enough to lend me a dozen guards for the journey,” he informed her.

“I’m glad to hear it. Farewell, Drake,” she kissed him one last time before he made his way down the narrow bridge to join his men.

Layla was touched that Thranduil was making every effort to protect her last living blood relative. She waved at Drake after he mounted his horse at the end of the bridge. He waved back and then he was gone.

She tried her hardest to choke back the tears.

“You mustn’t worry. He will arrive home safely,” she heard Legolas voice behind her.

“I pray that you’re right,” she said softly.

“You’re in need of cheering up. Why don’t you join Tauriel and me for some breakfast?” Legolas extended the invitation to her.

“I am famished…” she remembered she hadn’t eaten yet.

“Then it’s settled. Come,” he invited her.

They found Tauriel in one of the smaller halls already digging into her breakfast.

“You didn’t wait for me,” Legolas said with feigned injury.

“Duty may call at any minute and I must have food in my belly. What took you so long?” Tauriel asked him.

“I was with Layla,” he helped Layla into her seat before seating himself beside her.

"Glad you could join us. The more the merrier," Tauriel smiled at her.

“Where is my father meeting with Thorin?” he asked Tauriel.

“The small sitting room at the end of the hall,” Tauriel replied.

“Don’t you think a bigger room would have been more appropriate? Perhaps the throne room?” Legolas did not seem pleased.

“I’ve placed two guards outside the door. Your father insisted on having his privacy,” Tauriel ate rapidly while she talked.

“I’m not comfortable with the idea of my father meeting with Thorin in such close quarters,” he said tightly.

“Your father is more than capable of defending himself. Besides, Thorin appears to be more subdued now that he is king. I believe this will be a productive meeting,” Tauriel said with a broad smile.

“You’re certainly optimistic,” he began to dig into his breakfast, and then turned to Layla, “You’re very quiet. Is something the matter?”

“What is my husband discussing with Thorin?” Layla was tired of being kept in the dark. She was the queen after all.

“You do not know?” Legolas said with a slight frown.

“No. I don’t. Will you please enlighten me?” Layla slowly took a sip of her tea.

“Where shall I begin?” Legolas raised his eyebrows.

“Tell me everything,” Layla put down her cup of tea.

“Very well,” he smiled tightly before proceeding.

Legolas began telling her about the history behind the white gems, a family heirloom. He also spoke briefly of the enmity between the dwarves and the elves. Then he concluded with his father's hope to compel Thorin to return these gems, by way of Orcrist which was still in his possession.

“It seems rather silly, this ongoing feud,” Layla commented quietly.

“Dwarves are very stubborn,” Legolas replied.

“So is your father,” Layla smiled, “but I love him just the same.”

“I believe this feud will come to an end today,” Tauriel smiled, lifting her cup of tea as if proposing a toast.

“I hope you’re right,” Legolas wanted to believe the same.

******

Neither one chose to sit. Instead, they preferred to remain standing as they carefully measured one another with their eyes and wits.

“This feud has continued long enough and I want nothing more than to put it behind us. I’m prepared to return Orcrist to you if you but return what is rightfully mine,” Thranduil said in an even voice.

Thorin did not reply right away. A small smile appeared on his lips as he weighed Thranduil’s words. Then he broke his deliberate silence.

“Many of my kin lost their lives when you refused to help us on that fateful day. I have many fond memories of Orcrist but I shall not lose any sleep over the _elven_ blade. Tell me, Thranduil, can you say the same of your precious white gems?” Thorin’s eyes gleamed with mild amusement.

“I can have you imprisoned for this,” Thranduil threatened the dwarf-king.

“Do so and the wrath of Erebor and the Iron Hills will be upon you. Don’t forget, I also have a wizard for a friend,” Thorin served him with a threat of his own.

“I am not moved by your threats. You have until day’s end to comply with my terms. If you refuse, you will find yourself in a very familiar place,” Thranduil said before storming out of the sitting room.

******

Layla was in her bedroom rummaging through her wardrobe when she heard a large crashing noise coming from the sitting room. She dropped everything as she ran out to investigate the source.

She found Thranduil in the sitting room standing next to the shards of a broken vase on the floor. His eyes were burning with anger.

“What is it, my love?” she approached him carefully.

He turned away from her, not wanting to face her while he was this angry.

“My meeting with Thorin did not turn out as I had hoped,” his calm voice belied his fury.

“I am sorry, darling. I know just how much this means to you,” Layla said in a soothing voice.

Thranduil turned to face her with a perplexed look on his face.

“How could you know?” he asked.

“Legolas explained it to me,” she replied.

Thranduil did not seem pleased but said nothing to that effect.

Layla knew there was nothing else she could say to make him feel better. She walked slowly towards her husband and embraced him. She felt his arms wrapping around her.

“I am fortunate to have you by my side, Layla,” he whispered into her hair.

“As am I, my love,” she tilted back her head and kissed him.

All the while, she was thinking that there must be something she could do to ease his pain.

******

After making several inquiries, Layla found herself in the place she had been seeking. It was the inside of the dwarf-king’s guest quarters.

Thorin dismissed the dwarf guard who followed Layla into his quarters. He turned his eyes to the young queen and regarded her with curiosity.

“Does your king husband know that you are here?” he already knew the answer to that question.

“No. He doesn’t. I was hoping that we could talk,” Layla wondered if she was making a huge mistake coming here. Then she remembered how unhappy her husband had been earlier and it tore her up inside.

“Do you think you can sway me, my lady?” Thorin approached Layla, standing within a few feet of her.

“I only wish to reason with you…put an end to this senseless feud. I believe you will both be happier for it,” she chose her words carefully for she had heard of Thorin’s fiery temper.

“You are a dutiful wife and queen. Thranduil clearly doesn’t deserve you,” Thorin scoffed.

“Say what you will of Thranduil. I only want his happiness. Tell me what more do you require of my husband,” Layla hoped Thorin would be open to reason.

“I require nothing more from Thranduil,” Thorin replied steadily.

“I see,” Layla suddenly felt defeated.

“But I shall require something from you,” Thorin inched closer to her.

“What is that?” Layla dreaded his response.

“Just a kiss.”


	21. Chapter 21

“Do you take me for a fool?” Layla was taken aback by his request.

“Quite the opposite, my lady. I think you are wise and honorable which is less than I can say of your husband. I’m offering you a quick solution to your dilemma,” he smiled benevolently.

“What makes you think I’ll agree to this?” Layla felt her cheeks flushing with anger.

“I already said that you are wise and a dutiful wife to your husband. This should not be a difficult choice for you,” he gave her a measured look before turning away.

Thorin headed for the table containing a bottle of wine and began pouring into the two goblets beside it. After setting aside the bottle, he lifted the two goblets and walked up to Layla, offering her one of them.

“I don’t wish to drink,” Layla declined knowing that she needed a clear head.

“Suit yourself,” he placed the goblet on the table and took a sip from his own, his eyes never leaving her.

Layla tried not to let him unnerve her with his eyes.

 

“A little wine would have eased the sting,” he smiled.

“What sting?” she was tiring of his little game.

“The sting of guilt,” he replied.

“I cannot believe you will just hand over the gems to me in exchange for a simple kiss,” Layla said suspiciously.

“Unlike your husband, I am a person of honor. I always keep my word,” he appeared to be offended by the implication.

“Where are you keeping these gems?” Layla pressed him.

“That is a secret, my lady. But I promise you that those gems will be delivered to your quarters within an hour if you agree to my terms,” Thorin promised her.

It was a very tempting offer. Layla knew how much these precious gems meant to Thranduil and she wanted to make him happy. She suspected he wasn’t too pleased that she wanted to delay having children with him. Perhaps this was a way to make it up to him—a very big way. It was a gamble but what were the risks? A kiss? It was a small price to pay.

“Let me remind you that I plan to depart for Erebor within the hour. You do not have much time, my lady,” Thorin was pressing her for a response.

“Perhaps I can offer you something else in exchange,” Layla was trying to negotiate the terms.

“Better than your kiss?” he lifted his brow questioningly.

“Your sword…Orcrist,” Layla believed this would be a more tempting offer.

“You overestimate the value of Orcrist. I can always forge another sword…but a sweet kiss from the lovely Queen Layla can only come from you,” he replied smugly.

Things were not going as she had hoped. Clearly, King Thorin did not place too much value on Orcrist.

“A kiss and nothing more,” she said firmly.

“You have my word, my lady,” he smiled at her.

Without another word, Layla headed for the table and grabbed the wine goblet that had been meant for her earlier and took a big swallow. She didn’t want to lose her courage; it was important that she obtained these gems for her husband. She needed to do this for him; he had done so much for her already.

After she set down the wine goblet, she sensed Thorin standing beside her. Was he truly as honorable as he claimed to be? She will soon find out. If he tried anything, she wasn’t completely defenseless.

She turned to face him, feeling a lump in her throat.

“Please have a seat?” he invited her.

Layla made no effort to move but stared at him with a frown, not comprehending.

“I insist,” there was a flicker of harshness in his tone.

Suddenly, she understood. This arrogant and strong-minded male preferred to be in a position of dominance—he reminded her of someone else.

Layla wanted to put this ordeal behind her so she quickly took a seat on the chair beside the table. He walked towards her until he was standing to her right side.

“Can we get on with this?” Layla said tightly.

She heard him chuckling softly at her words.

“As you wish, my lady,” he lowered his head towards her.

Everything happened so quickly that it was virtually painless. His lips met hers for a tender yet chaste kiss. To her relief, he did not linger or cross any boundaries.

“Thank you. I shall never forget this moment,” he said softly.

“I would sooner rather forget,” Layla was quickly rising from her seat.

“A pity,” he replied.

“Now keep your promise,” she said to him before exiting his quarters.

As Layla walked down the hall, she was plagued with self-doubt and feelings of guilt. _What have I done?_ It was all a gamble, but she if won the payout would be tremendous.

When she entered her quarters, she found Nella gathering her gowns for cleaning. There was something comforting about seeing the old servant there.

“Nella, I need to talk to you,” Layla said as she leaned against the entryway to the bedroom.

“What is it, my baby? You don’t look well,” a worried look crossed Nella’s face.

They sat in the sitting room where Layla proceeded to tell Nella everything that had just transpired. When she was done, Nella sighed softly with a solemn expression on her face.

“Layla, you shouldn’t have done this behind your husband’s back. He will see it as a betrayal if he finds out,” Nella chided her.

“It is done. Now I must wait,” Layla said softly.

“You have a good heart, my baby. I know you love him and want to make him happy,” Nella gave her a comforting hug.

“It’s all I want, Nellie. You know I love him,” Layla felt the tears running down her face and she didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“I know, my baby,” Nella kissed her wet cheek.

******

It was just under an hour when the wooden chest was delivered by one of Thorin’s servants. The servant placed it on the table in the sitting room. After he departed, Layla opened the chest with Nella by her side. Inside, she found white gems that sparkled brightly like the stars on a clear night sky.

Layla heaved a huge sigh of relief.

“He kept his word, Nella!” she exclaimed in a partially euphoric state.

“He sure did,” Nella was thankful for the small miracle. She couldn’t bear to see her Layla suffer anymore.

“Please have Andir notify my husband,” Layla urged Nella.

“All right, child. Now wipe off those tears. You don’t want to make your husband suspicious,” Nella cautioned her before departing.

Layla took Nella’s advice to heart as she hurried to the bathroom and began dabbing at her face with a clean, damp cloth. Thranduil will be here very soon.

Just as she had predicted, her husband arrived within minutes. Layla watched as he carefully examined the contents of the wooden chest. When she saw the beginning of a smile crossing his face, she knew she had done the right thing.

“This is it, my love,” he embraced her and kissed her lips.

“Will you return his sword to him?” Layla asked him.

“I suppose it is only fair that I do,” Thranduil replied thoughtfully.

******

Thorin was preparing to vacate his guest quarters when Andir came knocking at his door. He immediately recognized the sword when the servant handed it over to him along with a note from Thranduil. Thorin quickly unfolded the note and read it silently before the servant.

 

_Thorin,_

_I am pleased you have come to your senses and made the choice that would keep you out of my dungeons.  
In exchange, I return Orcrist to you. _

_May your journey to Erebor be free of incident._

_Thranduil_

 

Something about Thranduil’s note made Thorin’s blood boil. Thorin was a proud dwarf who did not bend easily to the will of another. He did not appreciate what he perceived to be smugness on the Elvenking’s part.

 _He thinks he has forced my hand because I fear his dungeons. I will give him something to think about._ Thorin reflected for a moment before turning to the servant.

“Please wait here. I have a response for your King,” Thorin said before composing his message to Thranduil.

******

When Thranduil received Thorin’s message, he set it aside for a later hour. He was in a pleasant mood and at the moment did not care to read the dwarf’s rantings.

It wasn’t until late evening when he decided to give Thorin’s message some consideration. He had just finished making love to his wife and she was sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Careful not to wake her, Thranduil reached for the drawer of the small table by his bedside and pulled out the parchment.

He read the note once, and then he read it again. He stared at the parchment with a frown on his face.

Slowly, Thranduil turned his eyes to his sleeping wife.


	22. Chapter 22

As Thranduil watched Layla breathing softly while she slept, he was reminded of a time when he had misjudged her. He came very close to losing her as a result. He was determined not to make the same mistake again.

Thranduil and the dwarf-king have been at odds for so long that one could not expect such enmity to disappear overnight. Taking this into consideration, Thranduil decided to give his wife the benefit of the doubt. There was a strong possibility that Thorin was fabricating this lie to hurt him. Dwarves tended to be devious, especially with individuals of other races.

He reached down and smoothed back the tendrils of hair from her face. As he caressed her cheek he was reminded of how much he loved her. Layla would never do this to him. She loved him just as much as he loved her. This he believed.

******

Layla awoke the next morning to find herself alone in bed. Perhaps her husband had to attend to some pressing matter. With the help of Irina, she readied herself for the day. She was still feeling elated over yesterday’s turn of events.

Just as she was about to head out, Andir arrived with a breakfast tray. Layla gave him a questioningly look. She was on her way to meet Legolas and Tauriel for breakfast.

“My lady, the King has requested that you meet him here for breakfast. He will be arriving shortly,” Andir informed her.

“Thank you, Andir,” she smiled at him.

It was a rare occasion when Thranduil met her for breakfast but she wasn’t about to protest. It was an unexpected treat and she welcomed any time alone with her husband.

Minutes later, the servants were gone and Layla was passing the time brushing her hair until her husband arrived.

When Layla heard the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching, she knew it was her beloved. She quickly rose from her vanity stool and hurried to the sitting room to meet him.

The solemn expression on Thranduil’s face halted her steps and caused her heart to beat a little faster. Something told her that they were not going to be eating breakfast now.

“Is everything all right, darling?” she asked with a slight frown on her face.

“We must speak,” was all he said.

Layla slowly lowered herself onto the sofa, her eyes searching his for any clues.

“What is it, Thranduil?” the suspense was killing her. _Does he know about the kiss?_

Thranduil took a seat beside her on the sofa, his eyes boring into her as if searching for the truth.

“Is there anything I need to know, Layla?” he finally spoke.

“I don’t understand. What exactly do you mean?” Layla was being evasive to buy herself more time. _Could he be referring to something else?_

“Don’t be coy with me, Layla?” his faced hardened and his eyes darkened.

“I don’t wish to play this game with you. Tell me what angers you,” Layla spoke in a calm, yet firm, voice. She did not want to inflame his temper.

“I received a message from Thorin implying that you were intimate with him. Please tell me this is a vicious lie,” Thranduil closed his eyes, anxious for Layla to tell him what he wanted to hear.

“I did not sleep with him if that is what he’s implying,” Layla said steadily.

Thranduil appeared to be relieved by her response but only for a brief moment.

“Thorin is not one to give in too easily. I was certain he would choose the dungeons. You cannot imagine my surprise when he returned the gems to me. After I read his message, I began to wonder if there was any truth to his words. Why would he say such a thing?” Thranduil asked her.

Layla knew she had to tell him. Somehow, Thranduil sensed the truth but he was waiting for her to admit it on her own.

“I kissed him in exchange for the gems,” her voice was almost a whisper.

“You kissed him?” Thranduil said incredulously.

“It meant nothing, Thranduil,” she needed him to believe that.

“It means everything to me. You gave him a part of yourself…a part that belongs to me in exchange for those gems. I would sooner have him keep them,” he voice was filled with both pain and anger.

“I did not mean to hurt you…it was quite the opposite. I wanted to do something to make you happy. I know how much those gems mean to you,” Layla tried to explain.

“You should have discussed this with me. Instead, you went behind my back and kept it a secret from me. You betrayed me, Layla. How can I ever trust you?” his words were a reflection of his pain.

“Forgive me, my love…perhaps I used poor judgment but my intentions were entirely pure. Please believe that if nothing else,” she pleaded with him.

Thranduil remained silent for a moment as he pondered over the matter. He was trying very hard not to give into his wrath—he loved her that much. He believed she was telling the truth but it was difficult for him to accept that she had kissed another male. Knowing that it was Thorin only made him feel worse.

“I’m leaving for Rivendell,” he surprised her with this response.

“Why? I don’t understand,” suddenly, Layla was afraid.

“I need time away from you—time to reflect on what has happened. Can I truly forgive you? Can I live with the knowledge of your betrayal?” Thranduil words cut her deeply.

“I did not betray you, Thranduil,” Layla gasped as tears ran down her face.

“I _feel_ betrayed,” he shot back with anger.

“Please don’t leave me,” she begged him.

“I am not leaving you. I’m only going away for a short time. We shall talk when I return,” he said with finality before rising from his seat.

“Please be reasonable,” Layla continued to implore him but he walked out the door without another word to her.

******

As planned, Thranduil departed for Rivendell that morning with a host of guards. Before leaving, he had instructed Tauriel and Legolas to keep his wife safe during his absence.

When Legolas inquired regarding the circumstances leading to his father’s departure, Layla only gave him a vague response. She was certain he would choose his father’s side. Only Nella knew the truth.

“Give him time, Layla. His pride his wounded…it’s not an easy thing for the Elvenking,” Nella stroke Layla’s head which was now resting on her lap while they sat in the sitting room.

“I truly believed I was doing the right thing,” Layla began to sob.

“You’re still learning, my baby. Time and your mistakes will make you wiser,” Nella continued to stroke her head the way she used to do when Layla was a child.

"I was expecting him to fly into a rage, but he was mostly calm. I almost wish he had yelled at me...I deserve it," self-loathing was slowly creeping inside of her.

"You mustn't say such things, child," Nella hushed her.

“Will he leave me?” Layla wondered as she wept.

“Never,” Nella’s response was unequivocal.

As Nella continued stroking Layla’s head, she felt her body shaking for a moment and then it stopped.

“Layla?! What’s wrong?!” Nella was alarmed.

“I saw them…in my head,” Layla gasped as she sat up, wide-eyed and afraid.

“What are you talking about?” Nella grabbed her arm, worried about Layla’s health.

“I saw the orcs,” Layla's heart was pounding.

“What do you mean, my child?” Nella was perplexed.

“I can’t explain it. It was the glimpse of an image in my head. I saw them briefly…in here…inside the palace,” Layla began to panic.

“It’s a vision, darling. The Lady Galadriel had predicted your gift of foresight,” Nella suddenly understood.

“I didn’t will it…it just happened,” Layla explained.

“We must warn Prince Legolas,” Nella began to rise from her seat.

“Perhaps it’s nothing,” Layla tugged at Nella’s sleeve.

“Never ignore your visions,” Nella warned her.

******

Hiding in the forest were the creatures of Dol Guldur. They were spying on the palace, searching for weaknesses now that the Elvenking was away.

The orcs had one goal—capture the Queen, the former warrior princess of Rohan who slaughtered many of their kind in the past.

“The gate is always guarded and the bridge is too narrow for an attack,” the second in command complained to his captain.

“I know another way in,” the captain said with a growl.


	23. Chapter 23

“Are you certain you saw them in our halls?” Legolas frowned when he asked the question. It was inconceivable to him that orcs could invade their fortress.

“Yes…the image lasted mere seconds but I know what I saw. Unfortunately, the was the extent of my vision,” Layla wished she could be more helpful.

“We cannot ignore any warning or remain idle. The orcs have been spying on us for some time and they attacked your cousin on his way to the wedding feast,” Legolas said as he pondered his next action.

“What do you propose, Legolas?” Layla asked him.

“I must lead the army into the forest where many of them hide. We need to flush them out. Tauriel, have your guards secure the palace and its perimeters,” Legolas order the captain of the guard.

“As you wish but I will also join you in the forest,” Tauriel said with determination.

“So will I,” Layla also voiced her desire to join him.

“I cannot allow you to do that. My father was very clear about keeping you safe,” Legolas said firmly.

“I used to fight alongside my brother and cousin on the fields of Rohan. I will not sit idly while you take up arms against the orcs. This is my fight just as much as it is yours,” Layla had grown tired of being treated like a delicate flower.

“This is not Rohan. We’re not fighting in the open fields from the safety of our mounts. We are entering the forest on foot to search for an enemy that could be hiding at any corner, ready to attack,” Legolas knew the risks and he was not going to disobey his father.

Sensing as much, Layla quickly relented.

“Very well. I will wait in the palace. Please be careful. The orcs are ruthless,” Layla cautioned him.

Legolas nodded before exiting through the gate. Tauriel began making her rounds with the guards, reinforcing areas throughout the palace as needed.

Meanwhile, Layla headed straight for her quarters. She was relieved to the find her quarters free of servants for she did not need a lecture from Nella right now.

She made her way to the wardrobe where she began searching for her leather clothing. She stripped herself of her gown and slipped into her leather trousers, a shirt, and her favorite long leather jacket. Next, she retrieved her longsword which she kept hidden in a corner of the wardrobe. After fastening her sword belt around her waist, she was immediately out the door.

Layla almost laughed to herself when the guards at the gate failed to recognized their queen who was joining the fight against the orcs.

Unfortunately, Tauriel was not so easily fooled as Layla would soon learn when she heard the guard calling her name behind her.

“You will not talk me out of this, Tauriel!” Layla never once turned her head as she continued to walk forward.

Tauriel sighed with exasperation, knowing that this will get back to Thranduil and he will blame her for failing to protect his wife. But first, she had to deal with Legolas who would most likely react the same way.

Layla and Tauriel followed the rest of the soldiers into the forest.

“These are very likely the same orcs that tried to kill your cousin and would gladly have your head as well. You’re making this very easy for them. Perhaps walking right into their trap,” Tauriel was not shy about voicing her displeasure.

For Tauriel, this wasn’t just about her duty. She had grown overly fond of Layla and did not want to see any harm come to her.

“Then I will be doing my part to protect my cousin. As for me, I am more than capable of protecting myself,” Layla said flatly.

“Please stay close to me where I can see you. Things can become quite tricky in the forest. The enemy will have many places to hide in the dark while we are fully exposed. Our strength lies in our numbers and our ability to act swiftly and anticipate the enemy’s next move,” Tauriel cautioned.

“I will keep that in mind,” Layla replied as she continued ahead.

“You still have time to turn back. It is the wise thing to do. You are Thranduil’s queen,” Tauriel tried to dissuade her once more.

“I’m not turning back. Don’t ask me again,” Layla said crossly.

Tauriel knew there was nothing more she could do to change her mind. She resigned herself to remaining close to Layla and protecting her, a dangerous feat. It was easy to make a mistake when one's attention was divided.

Before Tauriel could speak to Legolas, he had already spotted Layla and he looked very displeased.

“What is she doing here?!” he hissed at Tauriel when he reached her.

“She would not listen to reason. She insisted on coming,” Tauriel explained, although she didn’t know how much good it really did her.

Legolas approached Layla after ordering Tauriel to hold his position.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said sternly.

“So I’ve heard,” Layla replied in a flippant tone.

“It’s time you start taking your duties as my father’s queen seriously,” Legolas began lecturing her.

“What would that entail, Legolas? Warm his bed and have his babies?” Layla said bitterly.

“You know that is not what I meant,” Legolas said before walking away.

Layla felt terrible for lashing out at him but her nerves were very raw from all the lecturing she was receiving. She couldn’t afford the distraction; she needed to stay focused on the enemy.

Just as Legolas switched places with Tauriel, an orc jumped before the soldier standing to his right and drove an axe into his head, killing him instantly.

Suddenly, more orcs were dropping from the tress around them. Legolas quickly shouted a command and everyone drew their swords and knives and began driving back the orcs.

Tauriel feared she would make a fatal mistake as she kept an eye on Layla and another on the orcs that continued to come at them.

Thankfully, Layla appeared to be holding her own as she slashed her sword at any orc that came near her. She was swift and lethal, Tauriel noted with much relief.

As the fighting progressed the elves were soon prevailing against the orcs. The elves suffered many casualties but the orcs experienced the greater loss as their bodies continued to pile on the forest ground.

Legolas frowned with confusion when he noticed a group of guards joining the fight. Hadn't he ordered Tauriel to keep the guards watching the palace?

Then it suddenly occurred to him that these were his father’s guards—the ones that were traveling with him to Rivendell. Not far behind the guards, he spotted his father cutting down the last of the enemy effortlessly.

Legolas was immediately reminded of Layla and he began searching for her frantically. To his relief, she was standing beside Tauriel holding her longsword with her right hand. They had cleared the immediate area around them of orcs. He smiled at her and she returned his smile. Now that they had prevailed against the orcs, he was left with the impossible task of explaining Layla's presence on the battle scene to his father.

“Did we get all of them?” Layla asked Tauriel who was trying to catch her breath from all the fighting she had done.

“I think so,” Tauriel replied, her eyes scanning the area.

Layla was about to say something else but she froze before uttering another word. It was in that instant, that she caught sight of Thranduil.

As if sensing her, his head turned in her direction. There was a worried look in his eyes.

Taking long strides, he walked towards her and lifted her in his arms in a tight embrace.

“You came back,” Layla could barely hold back the tears of joy.

“I should have never left,” Thranduil replied as he held her in his arms.

“I’m glad you’re back, my love,” Layla reached up to him and kissed his lips tenderly.

Her body stiffened with such suddenness that Thranduil drew back with concern. Her eyes widened as a gasp escaped from her lips.

“What is it, Layla?” Thranduil tightened his hold on Layla as her body began to go limp.

Then he saw it—the black arrow protruding from her back.


	24. Chapter 24

Tauriel came running to Thranduil’s side with her bow and arrow ready. She released an arrow at the orc hiding among the branches of the tree, knocking him to the ground.

No sooner had she brought down the orc, than all the trees began to spring to life. More orcs drop from the top of the trees while others rushed forth from behind them. The orcs appeared to be launching a secondary attack against the elves. The elves quickly countered the attack with their swords and arrows.

With Layla unconscious in his arms, Thranduil could not fight to defend himself, not without rendering his wife vulnerable to an attack. He was not about to lose her. He saw no other choice than to head for the bridge leading to the palace.

Holding her carefully, so as not to disturb the arrow stuck on her back, Thranduil began ordering his guards to provide him cover while he made his way to the palace. This was a risky feat for without a weapon on hand, he and Layla would be defenseless, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He refused to entrust another with his beloved’s life. He had to trust the guards to protect them while they fended off the orcs.

As he ran with his guards towards the bridge with Layla’s limp body in his arms, he could hear the sound of fighting behind him. He thought of Legolas and hoped all the training he had given him would be enough.

Then, in an instant, things began to take a turn for the worse when Thranduil discovered that orcs were blocking the bridge. The narrow bridge protected the palace from the enemy for it prevented them from storming the gate. It limited their foe to crossing in a single file. However, it was also a double-edged sword for now their enemy was blocking the narrow entryway to the palace.

Only one thought entered his head: he would never forgive himself if Layla perished in his arms. It was his duty to protect her and keep her safe.

Just when he was beginning to lose hope more soldiers began to join him, having defeated the enemy behind him. He was heartened by the sight of Legolas and Tauriel at his side.

Soon, the elves overwhelmed the orcs, scattering and slaughtering them in great numbers. In this manner, the elves managed to clear a path for their King.

Before long, Thranduil crossed the bridge and reached the safety of his palace. It wasn’t until he was within the walls of the palace that he noticed the bleeding wound on his left arm. It would have to wait. He had to get Layla to their quarters where she would get the care and rest that she needed.

On his way to their royal quarters, he was accompanied by servants and several healers who were inquiring as to the nature of Layla’s injuries. He was comforted by the thought that his wife would receive the best care in his palace.

Legolas was beside him while Tauriel remained at the gate issuing commands to the guards standing watch.

“That arrow must come out immediately,” Legolas indicated as they rushed down the hall.

“The healers will tend to it,” Thranduil felt himself weakening from his bleeding wound.

He was also weary from his journey to Rivendell, which he ended halfway through and headed back home to his wife, where he belonged. Thranduil knew that he and Layla would have many disagreements and quarrels because they were both stubborn and quick to anger. He also knew that Layla was young and bound to make many mistakes. As her husband and king, it was his responsibility to guide her when she err and treat her with tenderness and love. To do otherwise, would only make her love him less until one day she would grow to resent him. This he did not want for either of them.

Nella was standing at the entrance of the royal quarters, wringing her hands anxiously. She fought thoughts of losing the young woman she loved as her own daughter. This was no time to cry or lose her composure. She owed Layla that much. Only a clear head would serve her well at this hour.

As soon as they entered the royal quarters, Nella took charge of the servants, allowing only Irina and one other servant to join them along with two healers. They quickly went to work as they retrieved herbs, tonics, and clean bandages.

Thranduil placed his unconscious wife carefully on the bed so she was lying on her side. His chest began to tighten when he saw her blood spilling onto the bed sheets. He felt a firm hand on his right arm and saw that it was Legolas, beckoning him to join him in the sitting room. A healer was waiting for him there, ready to tend to his wounded left arm.

“I will not leave her side,” Thranduil said stubbornly, his eyes fixed on Layla's pale face.

He couldn’t abandon Layla during her most vulnerable hour. 

“Father, you will only get in the way. The sooner the healer tends to her wound, the better her chances will be. Please…come with me,” Legolas admonished his father.

For once, Thranduil heeded the wisdom of his son’s words as he reluctantly tore himself away from his wife.

“She’s in good hands, Father,” Legolas reminded him softly.

He followed his son into the sitting room and took a seat on the sofa while the healer quickly went to work on his wound: tearing the sleeve of his tunic, cleaning the cut, and applying special ointments.

“You were headed for Rivendell. What prompted you to change your mind?” Legolas asked him.

Thranduil did not wish to reveal too much about his quarrel with Layla for that was a private matter. However, he did not want to rebuff his son who only sought to keep abreast of all matters affecting his father and the kingdom. _Patience_ , he thought. He was going to need plenty of it of these days.

“I made a mistake. I acted too hastily…that is all,” he hoped Legolas would not press the issue any further.

Legolas only nodded silently as he sat in the chair across from his father.

Meanwhile, the other healer, Maira, was working furiously on Layla for fear of losing her. How could she face King Thranduil if such ill fate befell his new queen?

Nella had a significant knowledge of the art of healing, making her herself quite useful to the healer. After the healer carefully removed the arrow from Layla's back, Nella began cleaning the wound thoroughly. The healer began mixing some herbs with an ointment which she was planning to apply to the wound.

Layla kept drifting in and out of consciousness and she wondered whether she was dead or alive. She was heavily sedated and didn’t have the strength to speak but she could hear the faint sounds and words coming from the people around her. Layla heard someone say that it was unlikely that she would survive. The thought filled her with dread.

 _Where is Thranduil?_   She whimpered weakly with despair. Layla needed him by her side. She needed to hear his comforting voice. His face was the last thing she wanted to see before she left this world.

“Thranduil…” her voice was barely audible to those around her.

Nella, who was always on the alert where her mistress was concerned, saw Layla’s moving lips and the tears in her eyes. She immediately rushed to her side.

“What is it, my baby? Does it hurt?” she caressed Layla’s head.

Layla could not respond to her and soon the effort caused her to drift into unconsciousness.

******

It was almost an hour later when the healer approached Thranduil about Layla’s condition. She wore a solemn expression on her face, one that Thranduil did not fail to miss.

“What is it Maira?” he rose impatiently from his seat.

“I have treated the Queen’s wound…but she continues to bleed,” the healer hesitated.

“You have treated this type of wound before, why does it continue to bleed? Shall I treat her myself?” Thranduil demanded furiously.

Maira was supposed to be one of his best healers. He couldn't understand why she was struggling with Layla's arrow wound.

“No, Father,” Legolas intercepted him. “You are in a weakened state. It isn’t wise to use your healing powers at this time.”

“Who will stop me from healing my wife?” Thranduil replied in a challenging tone.

“It isn’t her wound, my lord!” Maira spoke up.

Thranduil turned to face her.

“What is it, then?” he asked her in a calmer tone.

“The Queen is with child, my lord…” Maira replied.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Last Chapter! Thank you so much for your comments & support. :D

Thranduil stared at the healer with disbelief.

“Are you certain of this?” he asked her, desperate for it to be true.

“Yes, my lord. The Queen is at least one month with child,” Maira informed him.

“One month…” he whispered, wondering if Layla had known.

“Can you save the child?” Legolas asked.

“It’s hard to say…” Maira’s voice trailed off, feeling as if she had failed her King.

Thranduil did not wait to hear more as he stormed anxiously into the bedroom to find his wife.

Nella was sitting by her bedside, dabbing Layla’s brow with a damp cloth.

“Did you know about the child?” Thranduil asked her.

“No, my lord, and neither did she,” Nella replied in a somber tone.

Thranduil nodded silently, wondering why he hadn’t noticed her condition. Perhaps he had been too preoccupied with other matters—namely their most recent quarrel.

Sensing that Thranduil wanted to be alone with his wife, Nella motioned to Irina to follow her out.

He pulled the chair beside the bed and sat down, contemplating his next action. He possessed magical powers which he could employ so save the unborn child. But such powers were only effective when he was in good health. Presently, he was injured and weary from the long journey. _It is worth a try_ , he thought silently.

In that instant, Layla’s eyes fluttered open and then focused on him.

“Thranduil,” she whispered.

“I’m here, my love,” Thranduil reached out his hand and caressed her face gently.

“You’re hurt,” she noticed the bandage on his arm.

“It’s nothing…only a scratch,” he was quick to reassure her.

“Am I dying?” she asked him.

“No, my love. You are not leaving me just yet,” he smiled at her.

“I…heard whispers…they said I couldn’t be saved,” Layla said with eyes that were deeply troubled.

“It isn’t you, Layla…” Thranduil wondered if he should tell her.

“Then who?” she appeared confused.

“Our child…” he couldn’t withhold the truth from her.

“Our...child?” her voice was a soft whisper.

“You did not know?” he asked her.

“No…” Layla replied softly.

“Do you care whether it lives or dies?” he remembered what she had said about not wanting a child so soon after their marriage.

“Yes…I want our child…more than anything,” her eyes welled up with tears.

“I can help,” he offered, knowing the risk.

“No…you’re hurt. We should let fate decide,” Layla managed to be firm in spite of her physical weakness.

Thranduil would not argue this point with her—not today. He wanted Layla to remain calm for it was crucial to her healing.

“As you wish, my love,” he replied.

******

_One year later._

 

Layla was enjoying a warm spring day as she sat by the garden outside the palace, not far from the rushing stream. She smiled as she watched Legolas hold the infant in his arms.

Little Thalia was trying to grab his nose with her tiny hand. She had just turned five months.

“Why does she always reach for my face?” Legolas laughed.

“You have that type of face,” Layla teased as she watched her daughter squeeze his nose.

She remembered a time when Legolas was afraid to hold his half-sister for fear he would drop her or hurt her. That was no longer the case. He joined her almost daily during her afternoons by the stream and played with the child. Thalia seemed to adore her big brother, but she loved her father the best.

Thalia had golden hair like her father and she also had his blue eyes. She was a beautiful female version of Thranduil.

“I must return to my duties,” Legolas said reluctantly as he handed the child back to Layla.

“What a pity. I always enjoy watching her pinch your face,” Layla laughed as she held Thalia in her arms.

“Funny, Layla!” Legolas snapped back.

“I must be getting back too. Help me up,” Layla extended her free hand to him.

He pulled her to her feet easily. Thalia began reaching for him again.

“No-no. Your brother must attend to his duties. We’re returning to our quarters for our afternoon meal,” Layla said to the infant.

Thalia pouted as a soft whimper escaped her small mouth.

“She wants everyone else but her mother,” Layla complained.

“You know that’s not true,” Legolas disagreed with her.

Everyone knew that at bedtime, Thalia would not fall asleep unless it was in her mother’s arms.

When she reached her quarters, she found Nella setting her food tray in the sitting room. Thalia began to coo softly when she saw Nella.

Nella immediately lifted her from Layla’s arms and began to rock her as she sang her a lullaby.

Layla began to dig into her meal quickly for Thalia’s feeding time was almost near.

“Stop rushing, my child, and enjoy your meal,” Nella chided her.

Layla could have gotten a wet nurse for Thalia but she had been adamant about feeding the child herself. As a result, she had to keep herself well-fed to ensure that her daughter was properly nourished.

After she finished eating her meal, Nella placed the eager infant to her breast who began sucking hungrily. This was the most precious moment for Layla. She would not delegate this motherly duty to another. Now that Thalia was in her life, she couldn’t imagine a world without her. The child proved to be an unexpected blessing.

Nella sat beside her and kept her company. She began to speak of a time when Layla was no older than Thalia.

“You were a good child, my baby,” Nella smiled at the memories in her head.

“…and you were a good mother to me…still are,” Layla smiled fondly.

Thalia began to fuss, signaling that she was finished feeding. Nella took the infant in her arms as Layla laced up the front of her bodice.

The door swung open unexpectedly to reveal the Elvenking as he entered the sitting room.

Thalia began squealing with glee at the sight of her father. A tender smile spread across Thranduil’s lips as he reached for his daughter and held her in his arms.

“How is my little princess?” he spoke lovingly to his daughter.

Thalia responded with a loud squeal as she kicked her little legs happily. Thranduil pressed a kiss on top of her head. He adored his little princess.

Then he turned his eyes to his beloved wife, who was smiling at him lovingly.

“Nella, please take my daughter to her quarters,” Thranduil handed the child to Nella.

No sooner did Thalia leave her father’s arms than she began to wail loudly. Nella rocked her gently and spoke soothing words to the child as she carried her out to her quarters which were just next door.

“She truly loves her father,” Layla chuckled softly.

“Her father truly loves her mother,” Thranduil said as he sat beside her.

“Is that so, my love?” Layla smiled at him coyly.

“Do you doubt it?” he reached down to the side of her neck and kissed it.

“I can be persuaded,” she chuckled lightly as she recovered from the shiver that just ran down her spine.

He continued nibbling at her neck, causing her to moan softly with pleasure.

“Do you believe me now?” he murmured against her neck.

“You don’t play fair,” Layla gasped as he began unlacing the front of her bodice to reveal her breasts.

“You give in too easily, my love,” he cupped her breasts and kissed them.

Layla tried to squirm out of his hold but he held her in place.

“What are you trying to do, darling?” he whispered to her.

“Take control,” she kissed his lips hard.

He let her break free and watched as she lifted her gown and straddled him on the small sofa.

“Our large bed would be most comfortable,” he suggested as he tugged at her bodice until her upper body was completely exposed.

“I have more control here,” she smirked mischievously as she began tugging at the front of his trousers, eager to reach his arousal.

“Then I shall humor you for now,” he smirked back at her, knowing he would have his way with her soon enough.

She pressed her body against his as she carefully bore down on him. She felt his hands on her hips, guiding her down his length. He was fully erect.

Layla rocked her hips back and forth, while she looked into his eyes. His gaze alone was enough to make her climax. Layla knew she would reach it before him. She had been craving for him all morning.

Thranduil had been away for three days attending an important council meeting arranged by the Lord Elrond at Rivendell. It had been torturous for Layla to sleep alone in that massive bed so she took to her daughter’s quarters during his absence.

Her climax overtook her without warning for such was her hunger for him. Her body trembled with pleasure as she allowed her release to wash over her. She buried her head on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath.

“Did you miss me, darling?” he asked her softly.

“Every day…” she replied, her breathing finally easing.

He lifted her in his arms and carried her into their bedroom where they finished undressing each other.

Layla missed the feel of her husband’s skin against hers and the feel of his silky hair caressing her bare skin while they made love.

They moved onto the bed where their bodies intertwined in lovemaking.Their movements were slow and deliberate, allowing them to savor every moment together. The separation had been a painful one but their reunion was sweeter than a flower's nectar.

After they climaxed together, Layla snuggled against Thranduil as he held her tightly in his arms. She could hear the sound of his heart beating. It was such a comforting sound after lovemaking.

“I missed you, Layla,” he said softly.

He always said her name when he wanted her attention.

“I missed you terribly, love. Promise me you will never leave me again,” Layla turned her head so she could look into his eyes.

“I promise,” he kissed her lips as he caressed her face tenderly.

“Good,” she kissed him back.

“I believe it’s time we paid Lady Galadriel a visit,” he said as an afterthought.

“Why?” Layla frowned.

“She will help you with your gift of foresight,” he replied.

“There’s a lot I don’t understand,” Layla admitted.

“Galadriel will guide you and I will be by your side,” Thranduil said reassuringly.

“I want Thalia to join us,” it would break her heart if she were separated from her little one, even for a day.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he missed holding his daughter while he was away.

Layla was relieved they would be together as a family in the next journey. In the meantime, she would relish her reunion with her husband.

“I don’t believe I’m finished with you, my lord. Three days is a _very_ long time,” Layla rubbed her body provocatively against his.

“Too long, my love,” Thranduil drew his beloved into a passionate kiss.

 

\---------------------------------------------

The End


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